


It's Always Sunny In Riverdale

by Starbursters



Category: Archie Comics & Related Fandoms, Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: AU?, Cheryl and Betty make a good team, Jason still gets murdered, Multi, Veronica being a protective BFF, a rewrite of riverdale, low-key Veronica and Archie romance, no beta sorry!!, slow-burn Archie and Betty end-game, someone gets pregnant, the dismantling of the triangle
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2017-03-07
Packaged: 2018-09-23 10:07:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 47,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9651125
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Starbursters/pseuds/Starbursters
Summary: Betty Cooper copes with her boyfriend Jason Blossom’s murder by starting her own investigation to find the killer in her hometown of Riverdale.. Along the way, her friends become involved and help Betty unravel the truth behind Jason’s death, as well as the secrets hidden in their town.





	1. The Beginning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OKAY WOW. Finally finished with chapter one of IT’S ALWAYS SUNNY IN RIVERDALE. Typed up, story format. Ready for you to read! It’s un-beta’d, since I’m on my own here, but I hope you still enjoy reading it despite the errors.
> 
> Before I get to the story, I just want to say that this fanfic isn’t set in the CW Show Riverdale, and is more of my own version of a teen murder mystery starring Archie Comics’ characters. I’m taking certain liberties with the characters’ personalities, but also trying to stay true to the fundamentals that I grew up reading.
> 
> I’m very unsure about how this will be received, but I’m rather fond of it, and I hope you will be, too. If not, there’s always other fan fiction for you to go read.

CHAPTER ONE:

It was sunny and warm in the woods on Riverdale’s Summer Camp, Camp Rapids. The sky had never before been such a perfect shade of blue, and weather was just the right type of heat that it wasn’t balmy or dry. The birds were twittering in the trees, the bug were miraculously at bay, and it left Betty Cooper feeling as if she were walking through a dream. Though that might have been because Betty had Jason Blossom’s hand in her hand.

They’d both volunteered to become camp counselors at Camp Rapids in exchange for some glowing marks to put on their college admission slips. Though, in Betty’s case, it was just gilding her already shining resume of over three hundred hours of community service. For Betty, agreeing to become a camp counselor at Camp Rapids was more of an escape from everything going on in Riveprdale.

Betty had gone out with Jason before the summer —when she was flip-flopping between dating Archie Andrews, and then pining for Archie when he set Betty aside for Betty’s best friend, Veronica. But Betty had always been sure that Jason was looking for something casual. Or at least, he appeared to be, showing up at her locker in school with flowers and flirtations. He’d make Betty feel a little gooey, like warm chocolate. The fact that he was tall, handsome, and had Betty’s favorite shade of red for hair…it only made Jason all the more appealing. It also helped that where Archie often left Betty feeling second hand, Jason would put Betty first.

But he wasn’t without he flaws. Jason was sometimes selfish and rude. He came from a wealthy family, and often acted as if he had more right of privilege than most. But he was also quick to repent (at least when it concerned Betty). At first, he struggled with understanding what he did wrong, but once he understand, he was willing to make it right. And unlike Archie, when Jason made a mistake with Betty, he didn’t make the same mistake again. He’d show up with a bundle of Betty’s favorite flowers and try to make it right.

That wasn’t to say that Archie didn’t make up for his mistakes. Archie just used so many excuses and took so many advantages, leaving Betty to feel cheated of her affections. Which was why it felt good to feel wanted and appreciated. Betty was grown up enough to admit that, when it came to affairs of the heart, she was incredibly selfish. And it hadn’t been until the start of summer that Betty Cooper decided to do something absolutely greedy by taking up Jason’s offer of exploring their relationship.

She’d said goodbye to the old Betty, who’d practically been Archie’s doormat, and embraced the new. The new Betty was confident, flirting, and keen on one Jason Blossom. It also helped that agreeing to something more with Jason showed a whole new side of Jason that Betty had not yet seen. For one, Jason liked to tease Betty on a regular basis — naughty smirks and mischievous eyes that left Betty feeling like there was electricity dancing up her legs. He was also constantly surprising Betty with sneaky kisses and warm, lingering touches that could leave Betty breathless.

It’d been torture, and Betty had endured that torture for a good while before she took the bull by the horns and decided that she was ready for more. So she waited two weeks into their installment as camp counselors, and then asked Jason to meet her one night down by the river. She’d changed her clothes four times before she’d settled on her counselor uniform, and snagged the pack of condoms she’d stuffed deep into her travel bags before getting on the bus to go to camp.

She’d been nervous, and scared that she was being too forward, but the look of surprise one Jason’s face had made it all worth the anxiety. That night, the only things that had mattered were Jason, the feel of his skin, and the pleasure they felt. It’d been awkward at first, but they’d laughed it off and found their rhythm, taking turns finding what each other liked and what felt good. It hadn’t been like the scenes in those romances Betty found in the grocery store book racks, but it’d been enough for Betty, and and more importantly to Betty, it’d been enough for Jason.

After that night, Jason and Betty were nigh inseparable. They rearranged their camp schedules to be able to work alongside one another, sharing counselor duties and joining their groups of campers for activities. The camp directors had been more than happy to go along with the changes, and Betty and Jason were able to keep their hands to themselves when their campers were present. But once they got behind closed doors, or night fell and they got down by the river, all bets were off.

Betty hadn’t expected to enjoy sex so much, as she had never felt much inclined to sex before the summer, but she attributed her burgeoning appetite to the deepening of her feelings for Jason. He made her feel desirable, attractive, and sexy. His touches were like friction on her skin, and his kisses were like sparks. And Betty just couldn’t get enough.

But when they weren’t tearing at each other’s clothes, they were cozying up by the bonfire at nightfall, racing one another in the lake, and taking leisurely walks in the woods. They enjoyed just being together, and as the summer went on, Betty found herself more than certain that she wanted her and Jason to stay together. She could see the two of them at school together. They’d be sharing kisses in the halls outside class, spending their lunches together in the cafeteria, and studying together in the library.

Spending time together — just as they were now. Walking together in the woods, just the two of them.

Betty glanced down at their joined hands — not at all clammy or sweaty, just right — and her cheeks heated bashfully. She looked up at Jason and was a touch shy when she found that Jason was looking back. He was smiling at her in that gooey way, and Betty felt an impish quality inside take the mike.

“So, does this mean that we’re going steady?”

Jason laughed, and when he laughed, his shoulders shook with mirth, and his smile grew by diameters.

“I guess you could say that.”

He began swinging their hands between their bodies, making Betty start to laugh. He seemed to become even happier just listening to Betty’s laughter, and continued to sneak warm looks at her as they continued their walk through the woods.

Betty’s laughter tapered off to giggles, and she couldn’t stop smiling. She had never felt so happy before in any relationship she had with a significant other. While she had this realization, she looked at Jason from the corner of her eyes, once again feeling bold.

“I wouldn’t mind that,” she admitted.

That caught Jason by surprise, and he came to a sudden stop. Betty, who had still been walking and holding Jason’s hand, almost tripped over a tree root when she suddenly couldn’t go any further.

She startled. “Hey! Wha?”

Jason interrupted Betty, looking at her with wide eyes and mild disbelief.

“Do you mean that,” he asked.

Betty was confused. “What?”

“Going steady. With me.”

Suddenly, the Betty realized the quietness of the woods, and all she heard were birds chirping, critters scurrying along the branches, and her heart beating rapidly in her rib cage. She stared into Jason’s deep green eyes, finding her throat suddenly dry.

It was with great courage that she took a chance and said, “Yes.”

Again, there was silence. But it didn’t last much longer than thirty seconds, because then Jason was pulling Betty up against his body, letting go of her hand, and tangling his nimble fingers in Betty’s long, blonde hair. Betty’s hands went to Jason’s shoulders by muscle memory, squeezing them encouragingly as Jason brought his lips against hers.

She felt her lips tingle so pleasantly, and when Jason pushed a little further against her lips, she was more than willing to let him deepen the kiss. They must have been tangled together for a full minute, before Betty felt one of Jason’s hands leave her hair and instead skate down to the hemline of her camp shirt.

Betty broke the kiss, practically giggling.

“Hey, hey,” she chided. “Let’s save that for later!”

Jason was giving Betty a put-out face, much like a puppy dog, but Betty was stern, and furrowed her brows, causing Jason to chuckle.

“Okay, all right. That’s fair.”

He let her go, taking a moment to straighten out Betty’s hair, before reaching down to take Betty’s hand back into his. They smiled dopily at one another before they continued their walk, a certain lightness to their steps.

Betty could safely say that she was the happiest she’d been in a long while.

And then the sound of a gun firing broke the bubble.

Practice from self defense classes at the community center had Betty throwing herself forward, down onto the ground, arms going up to cover her head. The echo of the shot reverberated in her ears, and her heart broke into a fearful gallop.

She stayed on the ground for a full minute, blood pounding in her ears, before she deemed it safe to remove her arms. However, when she moved them away, she saw something red splattered her skin. Hand shaking, she reached up to swipe a finger along her nose, and when she pulled it away, she felt its warmth.

It was blood.

Something lurched painfully in Betty’s stomach, and she began to panic.

“Jason! Oh, God! I’ve got blood—“ she turned her head to look back at Jason, and her voice died in her throat. Her eyes widened in horror and her skin turned white like snow.

“J-Jason?”

Two feet away from Betty, Jason lay on the ground, unmoving.

Betty scrambled to her feet. “Jason!” She hurried over to his side and fell to her knees. For a moment, all she could do was breathe. And then, she began to shake.

Right at Jason’s forehead was a bullet hole, red and grotesque.

Betty’s breath stuttered, and she muttered. She repeated the word “no” over and over, and over again. It built with momentum, until Betty felt the scream that wrenched from her throat.

It echoed through the woods.

“JASON!”

Betty could feel her heart tearing in two, and anguish like none other began holding her like a vice. She fell forward onto Jason’s body, unable to keep herself upright. Her fingers dug into Jason’s shirt, and she buried her face into his chest, still smelling the scent of Jason favorite laundry detergent before it became overpowered by the stench of blood.

She sobbed, absolutely helpless and alone, until she regained control over her pain and shouted for help.

“SOMEBODY HELP! PLEASE!”

But then the woods disappeared. Jason disappeared. And Betty was gasping, jerking awake in her bed, throat feeling raw and tears streaking down her cheeks.

She was in her bedroom, in her house in Riverdale, her bedcovers on the floor, and her fingers digging into the mattress. Camp Rapids was over an hour’s drive away, and it’d been almost two months since Jason had died.

It took a moment for Betty to settle back into her body, and she startled when her bedroom door swung open, and a tall, think, short-haired woman burst into Betty’s room, wielding a baseball bat.

Betty realized that she must have been screaming in her sleep.

The woman, Betty’s older sister, Polly, whipped her head left and right, looking for the source of her sister’s fears.

“Where is he? Where is he?” she repeated, searching for her sister’s assailant. But after a minute of scanning the room, she realized that no one was there. Lowering her bat, she frowned, almost disappointed, before she realized that Betty was looking at her.

“Oh God, Betty,” Polly gasped, dropping the bat. She rushed to Betty’s side and threw her arms around her little sister. Betty was breathing hard, and Polly began to stroke Betty’s hair, which soothes Betty within ten seconds.

Betty gulped down a wet emotion and tried to squirm out of Polly’s arms. Though Polly was reluctant to release Betty, she took the hint and released her sister, watching Betty fearful eyes.

Hating that she felt so helpless, Betty shook, and that was all Polly needed for a sign that she should pull her little sister back into her arms and begin to rock her back and forth. Betty was reminded of how Polly used to do the same thing when they were little, and Betty would skin her knee playing hopscotch or wake up in the middle of the night from a bad dream. Just like then, Polly’s arms remained warm and safe.

Betty put her head on her sister’s shoulder, sniffling.

“Another nightmare?” Polly asked.

Betty choked on the sob rising from her throat.

“Yeah.” She pushed her face into Polly’s shoulder and felt the tears come.

 

The next morning, Betty told her family that she wanted to try to go to school. She’d been taking a leave of absence from school for a week now after she got sick at school during lunch.

Alice Cooper was reluctant to agree with Betty’s decision — she preferred to have her youngest child at home where Alice could keep an eye on Betty in case of anymore episodes — but she agreed at Betty’s insistence. She even called up Betty’s best friend, Veronica Lodge, and asked her to swing by on her way to school to give Betty a ride.

It was why Veronica was currently leaning against her limo, parked at the curb. She was a beautiful young lady, with milky brown skin, and dark hair that complimented her features. She wasn’t tall like Betty, but she was curvy and had a face that could claim come hither if she so pleased. Her clothes were fashionable, if not suited for cooling weather, and she wore large, thick sunglasses with real gems at the corners.

She had her arms folded to her chest and she was frowning. She did this when she was concentrating. And right now, she was concentrating on her best friend, Betty Cooper.

Betty Cooper and Veronica Lodge had been friends since kindergarten, when Veronica had met Betty at one of Veronica's mother's charities. Since then, they’d been near inseparable, save for the usual intervals where they warred over the affections of one Archie Andrews.

But even after Archie came into their lives, Betty and Veronica had maintained their friendship, albeit now with the common case of rivalry that came from two girls fighting over one boy. They often went past their set limits, and caused each other pain, but they had a rule that, when one of them was at dire straits, not even Archie could stop the other from rushing to her friend’s side.

And that was exactly what had happened when Veronica first heard that her best friend’s boyfriend had been shot, with Betty right there as witness. Veronica had nearly stolen her father’s mustang (it was the fastest) in a bid to drive straight to Camp Rapids and be there for Betty. But then the police were closed off the camp, and put the entire camp under investigation, and there was no way Veronica could have gotten through that yellow tape without spending a night grounded under her father’s rule.

So Veronica had waited two agonizing days before the tape cleared, but just when she’d been about to race to Betty’s side, her father held her off, saying that Betty should have some time to herself. It’d been a ridiculous idea — Veronica knew that leaving Betty be only left Betty to stew in her misery. But after a quick call to the Coopers and talking to Polly, Veronica agreed to be patient.

Her patience lasted two days after Betty returned home, and then Veronica was gone to the Cooper household like a bullet. She came carrying aroma therapy candles, beauty supplies, and oodles and oodles of comfort food (all Betty’s favorites). The Coopers had been more than happy to welcome her into their home, and Polly even walked Veronica up to Betty’s room, helping Veronica carry all the Get Betty Better supplies (though Veronica knew that not even five thousand pounds of chocolate would heal Betty’s pain.)

“Betty. Veronica’s here,” Polly had said softly after opening Betty’s door. She’d given Veronica a hand signal to wait, and entered the room. Outside the door, Veronica could hear Polly puttering about the bedroom, asking Betty if she was awake and did she want something to eat or drink. It’d been a full minute wait before Polly emerged from the room, sans supplies, and let Veronica enter. Once inside, Veronica set her eyes upon her friend, curled up in fetal position under the covers on her bed.

It’d taken Veronica thirty minutes to coax Betty out from under the sheets. After that, Veronica spent an entire hour curled up on the bed with Betty in her arms, letting Betty soak Veronica’s cashmere blouse with her tears. Once that passed, Veronica got out the aroma therapy candles, lit two, and just lounged on the bed with Betty, just being there. Veronica repeated the same methods for the rest of the week, adding onto the list as Betty regained her strength and finally ventured from her room.

Veronica spent the rest of the summer before school started at Betty’s side, occasionally bringing in their friends when Betty felt up to it. And their friends were more than supportive when it came to Betty — they knew to keep their voices down, stick to less rambunctious activities, and kept the conversation topics safe and fun. It was only a couple days away from school starting up again when Betty said she wanted to go with everyone.

Looking back, maybe Betty had not yet been ready, because at the end of their first month back at school, Betty got sick. It came on so sudden, and almost out of nowhere, but Veronica knew there had been warning signs. The trauma of Betty’s experience had begun wearing on Betty’s mind without someone there twenty-four-seven to help keep Betty distracted. While school was certainly distracting enough for Veronica, it was near tedious to Betty, and she was constantly haunted by a never-ending series of nightmares involving Jason, Jason’s blood, and the sound of a gun firing. She started getting sick, throwing up almost every day and losing her appetite. She even ate less, hoping it would keep her from vomiting, but it didn’t, and she started to lose weight.

They all should have seen it — but then, Betty had spent years maintaining her image as the perfect girl, that they tried not to let the guilt eat them away.

The Coopers had wanted to take Betty to the hospital, but Betty had refused to go, begging her family to let her stay at home and rest. It’d taken some heavy convincing, but Betty got what she wanted

Three days ago, Betty had been feeling better, and she’d told her mom that she wanted to go back to school, but Alice had asked Betty to wait another day to be sure. With the third successful day of no sick episodes, Betty still wanted to go back to school. And if Betty Cooper wanted to go back to school, well then, Veronica Lodge was going to be right there with her.

Best friends through thick and thin!

Veronica was pulled from her ruminating by the sound of the Cooper household’s front door opening and closing. She looked up at the house’s porch and saw her best friend standing at the top step, looking uncertain.

Veronica peeled herself from the limo to walk onto the Cooper’s lawn, smiling in a way she hoped to be bright and encouraging. She was pleased when Betty tried to smile back, even though the smile didn’t quite reach the corners of her mouth.

“Hey,” Betty said, and started down the porch steps.

Veronica was quick to meet Betty at the bottom and waited for Betty to step down before she threw her arms around her friend and squeezed her with great affection. She felt Betty hesitate for a second, before she returned the hug.

Betty still felt too thin.

Veronica pasted back on her smile and let go of Betty, pulling them apart so that she could put her hands on Betty’s shoulders and squeeze them reassuringly.

“Looking good, Ms. Cooper!” she cooed in an almost flirtatious manner. It made Betty flush, always so modest. Veronica used that moment to swing an arm around Betty’s shoulders and began walking her towards the limo.

“How’d you sleep?” she asked.

Betty was looking at the ground, expression unreadable. “Not well.”

Veronica frowned. “More nightmares?”

Betty nodded. “It’s now just one constant loop. Like a really bad horror reel.”

Veronica grimaced, not pleased with the development, but she smiled for Betty when they got to the car and Veronica helped Betty inside. She made sure to get Betty comfortable before turning to her chauffeur in the front seat and nodding. She waited for the car to pull away from Betty’s house before she pierced the silence.

“Do you think, maybe, you should talk to someone about it?”

Betty’s hands shook, and she shook her head.

“I talked enough about it when the police were talking to me after Jason died. I really don’t want to have to go over it again.”

Veronica frowned, having heard the almost vehement quality in Betty’s tone. But not wanting to upset Betty, she switched tactics, and topics. Reaching up a hand to her hair, she twirled a dark lock about her fingers, and lounged back in her seat.

“So,” she said airily. “Did you get those five prompts written that Grundy assigned yesterday?” Veronica had been bringing Betty her homework since she’d gotten sick.

Betty smiled gratefully, aware of what her friend was doing. They spent the rest of the car ride to school talking about their teacher’s obsession with Shakespeare, and how they couldn’t believe they had to write a paper on sonnet structuring.

When they arrived in the school parking lot, Veronica made sure to assist Betty out of the vehicle, thanking her chauffeur before shutting the door, and then ushering Betty to the school entrance. It would be a lie to say that Veronica wasn’t eager to have her best friend back in class with her. While their friends were there for her, no one could substitute for Betty Cooper.

The walk to their lockers was a game of duck and swerve, as the halls were filled with teenagers — fellow students chattering and hanging out by their lockers. Everyone was smiling and laughing, and there were even couples stealing kisses around corners. It was ten minutes before classes would start, and the halls were usually busy in the morning.

Betty’s locker was right next to Veronica’s locker, a couple doors down from their first class of the day. They’d had the same lockers since they started high school, and had always found some way to bargain and bribe their way into keeping the same lockers each year. Since they were now seniors, this was their last year of being locker neighbors.

Betty was able to open her locker with relative ease, reaching in and pulling out her textbooks, while in the locker next to her, Veronica was struggling to unearth her own textbooks. The problem Veronica encountered was that her locker was less organized than Betty’s, and so everything was usually stacked atop something else. Betty watched her friend continue to play a locker version of JANGA for a half minute more before she turned back to her locker to shut it.

She didn’t expect to see the face that was hidden by her locker’s door. She jumped a half foot in surprise, heart leaping, before she landed.

“Archie Andrews!” she yelped, flustered.

Archie was tall, pink-skinned, lightly freckled, and had a face that was more charming than handsome. He wasn’t the most built of the senior boys, but he was certainly athletically fit, and it showed even with his letterman’s jacket for football. It was a little large on his frame, but it worked on him. His charm was even more enhanced by the guitar case leaning against his hip, which was constantly at Archie’s side, ready to be opened so that Archie could pull out his guitar and play one of the songs he was writing. Or to make a pretty girl swoon — Archie's motives varied.

Archie smiled at Betty, causing Betty’s cheeks to heat. Archie always had a way of making Betty feel warm inside.

“Sorry, Betty,” he said apologetically. For a moment, Betty was back at where she was before the summer — pining for Archie. But that moment popped when Veronica shut her locker door and noticed Archie.

A familiar feeling of jealousy and annoyance bubbled at the bottom of Veronica’s stomach, and she glared at her two friends. But when she realized what she was doing, she quickly snapped out of it, and smiled.

“Archiekins!” she greeted.

And then Betty’s moment popped, because Archie looked at Veronica, and the way Archie looked at Veronica was of a different heat than the way he looked at Betty.

“Hey, Ron,” Archie greeted back.

Betty glared at Archie, annoyed with once again being overlooked. She almost got angry before letting the emotion go. There was no use in getting angry over something that occurred every day of Betty’s life.

Veronica must have noticed the sink of Betty’s shoulders, because she shot Archie a narrowed look, nodding her head meaningfully towards Betty.

Archie took the hint and turned his attention back to Betty. She was fiddling with her locker’s lock, looking put out.

“So,” he started, getting Betty’s attention. “I was thinking we could maybe go out to Chez Mignon on Friday night?” He smiled, hoping it was encouraging. “We could get that window seat you really like?”

Veronica had been the one to suggest to Archie that he should focus on spoiling Betty for the next week. After Betty got sick, Veronica had gone into full damage control mode, trying to plan new and wonderful ways of cheering Betty up, from sacrificing her date nights with Archie to arranging tickets to that one performing arts theater that Betty used to love attending. It always impressed Archie the way Veronica would go miles for Betty, and it was part of what he loved about her.

When Veronica arranged for Archie to ask Betty out the first day Betty came back, Archie had been more than happy to agree. Because just as he loved Veronica, he loved Betty, too. It was just one of the many reasons as to why it was difficult to choose between the two girls.

Archie was sure that Betty would accept, and she even smiled. But it was hesitant, and Archie could tell that Betty had inkling of what he and Veronica were doing.

“I don’t know, Archie…”

Sensing that her plan was in danger of failing, Veronica grabbed Betty by the shoulders and spun her around. She took Betty’s hands and pulled them close with great affection, squeezing them reassuringly.

“C’mon, Betty,” she urged. “It sounds like an utterly romantic night. Candlelight, fancy restaurant, yummy food?” She glared at Archie over Betty’s shoulder. “And you’ll have Archiekins TOTAL attention.” There was a warning in her eyes.

Archie’s spine seemed to straighten further, knowing that Veronica was telling him something important.

Despite Veronica’s encouragement, it only seemed to cement Betty’s suspicions. Where, before, she’d been unsure, now she was certain about her decision. Smiling apologetically, she pulled her hands out of Veronica’s.

“I know what you’re trying to do,” she said.

Veronica’s eyes widened, surprised at being found out.

Betty turned around to face Archie, and Archie noticed that Betty’s smile had dropped an inch. It mad his own dim.

“It sounds like a nice night, and I’d love to go,” she started. But Archie saw the rejection before it left her mouth.

“But I just can’t date right now.” Betty’s eyes were sad. “I’m sorry.”

She then walked around Archie and headed down the hall, leaving Archie and Veronica at the lockers. The two watched Betty go, both worried, until Betty’s long, blonde ponytail disappears from sight, and it’s really just the two of them.

Veronica stomped closer to Archie, irate, and she smacked Archie’s shoulder. Her face was livid.

“Was that your best work, Andrews?” she demanded.

Archie winced at the smack (Veronica was a tough girl), but couldn’t let her get away with the implied insult. He gave her an annoyed look.

“I did as we planned! I don’t see where it went wrong.”

Veronica gave Archie a look. And Archie hated it. It was the look that told Archie that he was being stupid, that he WAS stupid, and he would forever be doomed to be stupid until the day he died.

“Oh really,” Veronica scoffed. “I’ve seen Jughead ask Reggie to go dunk his head in the toilet with more charm than that sad display.”

Archie’s face scrunched with frustration. He was getting angry.

“Don’t get mad at me,” he warned.

Unfortunately for Archie, when Veronica Lodge got mad, she got confrontational. And she was soon crowding his space, rising on her toes to look him straight in the eye. But what she said next made Archie’s anger evaporate.

“She’s still not gaining any weight, Archie.”

Archie knew Veronica was talking about Betty, because Veronica’s face went from rage to misery in a full one-eighty. Archie felt his heart clench in sympathy.

“I know, Ron,” he tried to placate.

But Veronica shook her head, unmoved.

“I hugged her today and she felt even thinner!” Her voice was gaining an octave as she grew more upset. “It’s been almost two months since Jason’s death, and she still can’t keep food down and she’s so pale—!!”

Archie interrupted her rant by putting his hands on her shoulders, helping her back down to her heels.

“Hey! Hey!” he hushed, watching Veronica take big gulps of air. “I’m worried about Betty, too. She hasn’t been the same since Jason died, and she WAS right there when he died.”

Veronica stared into Archie’s eyes for a half minute longer, before her eyes began to fill with tears. She closed them and tried to wipe away the moisture with her fingertips before it could ruin her makeup.

“I know that,” she sniffed. “It just…it just hurts seeing her like this.”

Archie put his arms around Veronica and hugged her. She returned the hug in kind.

“She just needs time, Ron,” Archie reminded her. And though he knew that he was right, he wished that there was some way to make everything back to the way it used to be.

 

Betty was taking notes in her English Lit class when she felt the first wave of nausea hit her. She froze, amidst the dronings of Ms. Grundy lecturing about Shakespearean sonnet structure. Many students were becoming drowsy, nodding off at their desks, and usually, Betty was immune to the effect. However, she was also becoming considerably tired, and so she was half-listening and half drowsing.

All concentration came to a stop when the second lurch in her stomach made her clap her hand over her mouth.

It attracted the attention of Ms. Grundy. The kindly, elderly woman took one look at Betty and frowned, concerned.

“Betty, dear. Are you all right?”

Betty’s cheeks reddened and she lifted her head to look at Ms. Grundy, carefully removing her hand from her mouth. She knew that it looked bad, but she was reluctant to let her condition keep her out of class.

She smiled apologetically. “Just some bad eggs from this morning. it’s okay.”

Ms. Grundy wasn’t convinced. She shook her head.

“I think you should go see the school nurse, dear.”

Betty wanted to argue, but she had never argued with Ms. Grundy before, and when Ms. Grundy’s eyes narrowed with warning, Betty forfeit. She packed up her stuff and left the classroom, embarrassed and frustrated.

Instead of going to the nurse, she went to girls’ bathroom on the first floor. It was the nicest one in the school, and the only bathroom to have a tampon dispenser that actually worked. It was also where the more popular girls gossiped while trading makeup and badmouthing teachers they didn’t like.

Betty strode over to the sink counter, swinging her backpack off her shoulder and dumping it down at her feet. She slapped her hands down on the sink’s edges, practically glaring at her reflection in the mirror bolted to the wall.

In the reflection, a lovely, but very sad woman stared back at Betty. She had beautiful blonde hair, but it was a little stringy. Her eyes were a lovely blue, they were melancholy. Where her skin shone, Betty saw the minuscule wrinkles and bags beneath her eyes. She’d always been told that she was a very beautiful girl, but looking in the mirror right now, Betty sees a miserable wretch of a person.

She squeezed her eyes shut, willing her stomach to settle and her eyes to not spring with tears.

The sound of crying interrupted her thoughts, sounding even more miserable than Betty felt. She swung around to scan the bathroom for the source of the noise, eyes passing over stall after stall, until she sees the partially open door of the handicap stall.

Betty approached the door, a hand rising to rap her closed hand against the door, but a girl’s voice stops her.

“Go away!”

The crying resumed, and though she’d been warned, Betty pushed against the door, swinging the door out and revealing an incredibly beautiful classmate perched on the edge of the toilet, head down, and sobbing. She had a fistful of paper towels in hand, and there even some on the floor, obviously having been discarded with the wave of tears.

Betty recognized the girl right away. She was red-haired, green-eyed, soft skinned, and fashionably dressed. She looked out of place in the bathroom stall in her high cost denim skirt and decorated high heels.

“Cheryl?”

Cheryl Blossom, Jason Blossom’s fraternal twin sister, raised her head and glared at Betty. She scowled. Betty could see that Cheryl’s tears had ruined her makeup, and that they were leaving streaks of mascara down Cheryl’s cheeks.

“I thought I said to go away, Petty!” Cheryl said nastily.

Cheryl had a penchant for her mean streak, and Betty had been on the receiving end of a good number of Cheryl’s bullying in the past. But over the years, Betty had realized that underneath Cheryl’s hair and ego, there was a vulnerability that Cheryl would rather not have exposed. Jason had always been protective of Cheryl, quick to come to her defense, but unwilling to settle when Cheryl tried to make Betty miserable.

Last Jason had told Betty about Cheryl, he’d said that he and Cheryl had a fight before Jason went off to camp. There’d been a lot of angry words, one ruined goodbye, and slamming of doors.

Jason had said that Cheryl needed to “get over herself”, but Betty could tell that fighting with Cheryl made Jason feel absolutely miserable. She’d encouraged him to make peace with Cheryl, and had even gotten him to send a message of a peace offering. He didn’t let Betty see what it was, but Betty had respected his privacy and let it be.

Now, Jason was gone, and Cheryl was crying in the handicap stall in the first floor girl’s bathroom. And Betty had know that many girls went to cry in the handicap stall, but she’d never thought Cheryl Blossom would be one of them.

Betty let Cheryl cry for a couple seconds more before she came closer.

Cheryl seized up, shoulders tight, and for a moment, Betty considered doing as Cheryl said, but that was interrupted by Cheryl suddenly reaching out her arms and wrapping them about Betty’s middle. She pulled Betty in close, pushing her face into Betty’s stomach.

Betty hesitated, having never been this close with Cheryl before, but something in her chest lightened, encouraging her to further extend the olive branch.

She let Cheryl cry into her shirt, not caring a jot if Cheryl smeared makeup onto the fabric. She could always get a new one later.

 

The cafeteria was loud in Betty’s ears when she had lunch with her friends. The cafeteria was also busy, full of students, and dozens upon dozens of long tables set out for the students to use. The scent of meatloaf was in the air, and it made Betty’s stomach turn unpleasantly. It didn’t help that her friend, Jughead, was also eating a super-sized slice of it from his lunch tray right next to her.

Usually, Betty and her friends mixed and matched on when they’d eat lunch together, and that usually depended on factors such if they were dating someone at the time, if they needed to cram before the next class’s test, or if they even had the same lunch. So today, she was sitting with Veronica and Archie, plus Archie’s best friend, Jughead Jones (Jughead not being his birth name, rest assured), and their friend, Reggie Mantle. Reggie sat on one side with Veronica, while Archie, Jughead, and Betty sat on the opposite side.

Reggie was tall, like Archie, with black hair and hazel eyes. But where Archie was charming, Reggie had rugged good looks, something which pleased Reggie to no end. He was often bragging about this or that to anyone who would willingly listen (or actually, even when NO ONE seemed to be listening) and he had a penchant for pranks that did more to anger people than make them laugh. But Reggie never seemed to care much — and Betty would have written Reggie off as just another bully if not for having grown up with Reggie and seeing that all his bluster and ego were just self defense mechanisms.

Reggie’s father was the owner of Riverdale’s newspaper, and his mother was a humanitarian who was always traveling, and though Reggie was proud of his parents, he often felt abandoned. He’d gotten used to coming home to an empty house after school, making his own meals, and going to bed before his father finally got home from the office. He became self sufficient, able to take care of himself. He also became incredibly lonely, and it wasn’t until last year that Reggie found a way to dispel the loneliness by adopting a dog from the local shelter. Now, Reggie had someone to come home to, who was happy to see him, waited just for him, and spent time with Reggie.

It also allowed Reggie to spend more time with fellow dog owner, Jughead, though the two were often on opposite ends of their sarcastic remarks, sniping back and forth. Amazingly, their issues didn’t carry over to their dogs, who actually got along quite well. In fact, it could be said that one thing transferred over to the dogs — and that was Reggie’s secret affections for Jughead.

Jughead was the lankier of the two, being almost stick-thin. He had messy black hair he wore under his crown-shaped, grey knit cap, and a somewhat pointed nose. He wore long t-shirts with short plaid button-ups, all unbuttoned, and his beat-up sneakers, and he preferred his life uncomplicated.

Unfortunately, his choice of friends made that desire near unreachable, as Jughead was constantly pulled along on every different scheme this week or not week. But so long as he was given food, he usually went without a fuss. This was probably why he and Archie had been friends for so long — Archie running around with this girl and getting into that mess, and Jughead eating hamburgers while simultaneously dragging Archie’s butt out of trouble.

Needless to say, they made for an interesting pair of friends.

Betty quietly ate her lunch made up of a turkey and hummus sandwich that Polly had fixed up that morning for Betty’s lunch. Polly had also doodled motivational cartoons again on Betty’s lunchpack. This time, it was a drawing of a cartoon cat saying EAT ME UP, with Polly’s signature at the bottom.

Across the table, Veronica was chatting with Reggie about a party she wanted to host Friday night, but kept sneaking discreet glances at Betty every so often before looking back at Reggie. Reggie would follow Veronica’s eyes, and nod every so often, agreeing with her unspoken message.

Jughead and Archie were discussing the latest superhero movie out in theaters, and like Veronica and Reggie, they were sneaking glances at Betty. In particular, they were keeping an eye on how much Betty ate of her sandwich.

Archie gave Jughead a worried look which Jughead shared.

A minute passed in which the boys continued looking back and forth between each other and Betty, until Jughead made the move and swung an arm around Betty’s shoulders. He brought her in close, and squeezed her shoulder.

“Hey, Betty!”

Betty was startled from her thoughts, caught offguard by Jughead’s action.

“Archie and I are thinking about maybe seeing that new Captain Khan movie tonight at the drive-In.” He gave Betty a hopeful smile. “Wanna go?“

Betty knew what Jughead was doing, and at first she wanted to say ‘no’. But a glance around the table revealed everyone was waiting for answer, practically hanging on it.

She gave Jughead a small smile.

“Sure. That sounds good,” she said. Her face then became pinched with uncertainty, before it was gone and she looked at Archie. She smiled weakly, hopefully.

“Mind if I bring along someone from class?”

Archie’s heart pinged at the look in Betty’s eyes, and he really was too happy from Betty finally agreeing to spend time with him that he just nodded enthusiastically.

“Sure!” he urged. “The more the merrier—ow.” He whipped his head to Veronica who had just kicked him beneath the table.

Betty wasn’t paying attention. She was getting up from her seat, looking excited.

“Great! I’ll go ask her.” She then went off down the rows of tables.

Veronica waited for Betty to get farther down the line of tables before she turned her attention to Archie, scowling.

“‘The more the merrier’?” she mocked.

Archie could only look confused. He didn’t understand what he did wrong.

“I meant it!” he protested.

Beside Veronica, Reggie shook his head, scoffing.

“Is there a brain in that carrot top head of yours?” he arched his brows, lips curving smugly.

Archie’s face reddened, and his fist clenched. Next to him, Jughead rolled his eyes. “Both of you suck at talking to girls,” he said bluntly.

Reggie and Archie glared at Jughead, offended. “Hey!”

Veronica ignored the boys, watching over Archie’s shoulder as Betty approached one of the very last tables, where one Cheryl Blossom was having lunch with her friends. Cheryl looked up when Betty approached, and seemed to be honestly confused as to why Betty was visiting. Ordinarily, Cheryl would throw out a taunt or a a thinly veiled jibe, but instead, Cheryl was at a loss at what to do.

Veronica’s brows arched as she watched Betty begin speaking to Cheryl, wondering why Betty even bothered. There was also some mixture of jealousy on Veronica’s mind, watching Betty and Cheryl interact. It percolated in Veronica’s stomach, and she sighed.

“Oh no.”

Archie stopped his arguing with Jughead to give Ron a confused look. Veronica pointed over his shoulder, grim-faced, and Archie turned around.

“Was she talking about Cheryl?”

Jughead turned around as well, and his eyes widened slightly.

“Oh boy.”

Reggie, who had never had an qualms regarding Cheryl, was the only person at the table who looked interested in this new development.

“Think you guys could use one more tag-along,” he asked Jughead.

Veronica’s face turned murderous, and without turning, she shoved Reggie out of his seat, right onto the floor. Jughead looked at where Reggie had been sat, and closed his eyes, sighing.

“Shake it off, Reg.”

 

After school, Betty went home for a while. She worked on her homework, read a couple chapters of her latest explicit romance, and played three rounds of Extreme Scrabble with Polly. It was all about keeping Betty busy and entertained. The sisters had been about to start a fourth game when Veronica texted Betty, inviting Betty over for some “girl time”. So Betty had texted Archie and told him to pick her up at Veronica’s house before she asked Polly for a ride.

Veronica’s idea of “girl time” amounted to her and Betty curled up on Veronica’s plush, four-poster bed with some fashion magazines, junk food, and several hairbrushes, as Veronica brushed out Betty’s blonde hair. While she brushed, Veronica shared the latest school gossip with Betty, voice rising with excitement as she discussed Jimmy Bloom’s latest girlfriend, or what Eddie Folkner did to get himself in detention for the third time in a row. The topic lasted a full hour before Veronica switched to Betty’s night out with Jughead and Archie.

“And Cheryl,” Betty had reminded Veronica. Veronica just gave her a dirty look in response. She looked like she was going to say something more when Veronica’s parents opened the bedroom door. They were wearing their business suits, impeccably dressed and not hair a out of place.

“Hope we’re not interrupting,” Veronica’s mother, Hermione Lodge, said.

Veronica’s face lit up and she smiled warmly. “Of course not, Mommykins!” She lifted the hairbrush from Betty’s hair. “Just styling Betty’s hair before she goes to the movies tonight!”

“Oh?” Mrs. Lodge crossed the room. She sat on the edge of Veronica’s bed. Her husband followed to stand at her side, his hands in his suit pockets. “Who with?”

“Jughead and Archie,” Veronica informed.

“And Cheryl,” Betty added, ignoring another of Veronica’s dirty looks. “We’re going to see the new Captain Khan movie at the drive-in.”

There was an interested twinkle in Veronica’s father’s eyes. It was no secret that beside being a wealthy industrialist, Hiram Lodge of Lodge Corporations was also a huge fan of Captain Khan. He would definitely be taking Hermione to see the movie later.

“That sounds like a good time! Why aren’t you going, too, princess?”

Veronica made face. “I don’t like superhero movies.” She set aside her brush and began gathering Betty’s hair into her hands to begin braiding it into a loose plait. “Besides, Cheryl Blossom will be there.”

Mr. Lodge frowned. “Now, Veronica. Remember that Cheryl just lost her brother, and she might not cope as you would hope.” He pulled his hands from his pockets and folded his arms, giving his daughter a stern look. “Remember that.”

Veronica’s mother nodded in agreement.

Veronica wanted to do the complete opposite, but knew her father was right. She sniffed, turning her attention back to Betty’s hair. “Right.”

Betty gave Mr. Lodge a grateful look, glad that she wasn’t the only one wanting to give Cheryl Blossom a break.

Wanting to change the topic, Veronica turned to her mother. “How was the meeting?” She glanced at the clock on her wall. “I thought it was finishing at nine o’clock? Did something happen?”

Mrs. Lodge shook her head. “It went quite well, actually.” She shot her husband a beaming look. “Your father managed to convince those big executives to accept his deal in under three hours flat!”

Mr. Lodge looked right back at his wife with adoration. “Only because your mother was ready to combat every one of their concerns with her records and statistics.”

It was no secret that, on top of being Hiram’s wife, Hermione was also his business partner. The two had met at ages twenty and twenty-four in college. She’d been working with numbers, and he’d working in stocks. They’d had four dates total before deciding to get engaged, and though their families at the time had been opposed, Hiram and Hermione started their life together. Combining their brilliance, they started Lodge Corporations, and made millions of dollars in the market. They also started several charities and made friends with hundreds of politicians, giving them even more of a leg up in the market. They went on with their lives like this for twenty-four years of marriage, before they realized that they wanted to have a child. And though it’d taken some fertility treatments and several visits with a specialist, they managed to have their one and only child, Veronica.

Mrs. Lodge blushed and rolled her wrist, far too modest to take credit.

Veronica giggles at her mother’s fluster while Betty couldn’t help but smile at the banter.

The mood was interrupted by the loud honk of a car horn. It startled everyone, and Mr. Lodge cursed.

Veronica leapt off the bed and hurried to her bedroom window. “It’s Archie!”

Mr. Lodge grumbled. “I think I feel a headache coming on.”

“Oh, Hiram,” Mrs. Lodge chided.

Betty slipped off the bed and to her feet, finding her land legs after four hours lying about on Veronica’s bed. “I better get going, then.”

She let Veronica accompany her down to the front door, where Betty found her shoes. While she laced them up on her feet, Veronica peered out the window, frowning.

“Cheryl’s with them,” she grumbled.

“Be nice, Ron,” Betty implored.

“Only for you,” Veronica offered.

She opened the door for Betty and waited until Betty was halfway out the entrance before she pulled Betty back for a hug. Betty was surprised, but she returned the hug in kind.

“Give me the deets later?” Veronica asked.

Betty grinned. “I’ll text you the entire plot of the movie.”

Veronica groaned, rolling her eyes, but let her friend go, watching Betty as she made her way down the long driveway and to Archie’s old, red van, where he and Jughead were waiting, with Archie at the wheel and Jughead in the passenger seat.

When Betty got closer, she saw Cheryl in the backseat, looking bored. The girl perked up, however, when she saw Betty. She reached over the empty seat to open the car door for Betty.

“Finally,” Cheryl exclaimed once Betty was settled in her seat. “Some hope of intelligent conversation!”

In the passenger seat, Jughead scoffed. “That should be my line.”

Betty bit her lip to hide her smile, while Cheryl made an offended sound like “why I never”. She and Jughead then began to sass one another back and forth, making Archie look to the car ceiling for guidance, and Betty laugh.

“This is going to be fun,” Archie remarked, putting his car in gear and pulling out of the Lodge’s driveway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I'm working on the second chapter already with seven pages done!
> 
> I'll come back and edit this chapter of spelling and grammar as we go on, so thank you for bearing with the error. I hope you stick around to read the rest of the story and I'll do my best to make this ride worth the while.
> 
> Oh, and you can find some goodies about the story on my tumblr. Mostly the tag is me musing about what I'll do next, but I also have done some graphics for the characters. I'll just put that right here: http://starbusters.tumblr.com/tagged/it%27s+always+sunny+in+riverdale


	2. Not What's Expected

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second chapter! I had this in my head for over a week, so I'm glad to finally get typed out. I hope you enjoy it, and please pardon me on any errors I made. I'm just lone-boating it over here!

CHAPTER TWO:

It was nighttime when Jason and Betty snuck out of their respective cabins to meet down by the river. They’d made sure that their cabinmates had all fallen asleep already and were at least two hours deep asleep before tiptoeing about. Fortunately for them, none of their cabinmates were light sleepers, so not even the quiet clicks of the cabin doors shutting caused a stir.

With this being their tenth time sneaking around, Betty and Jason had their routine perfected. Jason even brought the towel for them to lay on, as they sank to the grass, hands under clothes and lips on skin. The bushes bordering the lake hid their bodies as they slowly began to divest one another of clothing.

The couple got lost in their activity, losing inhibitions and embracing their passionate desires, careful, though, to not make too much noise.

Ten minutes later, they both lay sated upon the towel, Jason atop Betty, using his arms and elbows to raise himself up so he didn’t put his entire weight on Betty. Sweat was stuck to his skin, and his hair was a right mess from being pulled repeatedly by Betty’s nimble, strong fingers. 

Betty had managed to pile her blonde hair beneath her head to provide cushion, though strands had escaped, becoming wrapped about Jason’s fingers tenderly. 

Skin flushed, Betty smiled languidly at Jason, her fingers reaching to brush against his cheek, pads of her fingers rubbing little circles into the skin. Jason’s skin had tiny freckles, almost unnoticeable, but for Betty, who had spent the most this summer cataloguing them, she knew their existence.

Jason pressed his cheek into Betty’s touch, lips curving into a lazy smile. He soaked in Betty’s affection and was more than happy to let her explore, but something must have occurred to him, because his eyes twinkled. 

He leaned in and said in a sultry tone, “Anyone tell you that you give Marilyn Monroe a run for her money?”

Betty stared at him for a moment, mind repeating the terrible come-on in her head twice before she burst out with a giddy laugh. 

“No,” she said, shaking her head once. “Just you.”

Jason ducked his head down to rub his nose against Betty’s, grinning when it elicited a snort of laughter from the pretty blonde. Jason had a way about him that made Betty feel so silly and so free.

He kissed her lips once more, the taste of his lips just as sweet as the chocolate liquor one of his cabinmates had snuck past camp security. 

“That’s because I’m a suave kind of guy, Ms. Cooper.” His red brows wiggled suggestively.

Betty twitched her nose, wiggling it against Jason’s, this time making Jason laugh.

“I don’t know about suave,” Betty teased, eyes mischievous. Jason knew how to bring out this side of her — the side of her that was more than happy to return Jason’s flirtations in kind.

Jason’s nose wrinkled momentarily, before he was back to grinning like the naughty cat who caught the canary. 

“Maybe,” he said softly, “the lady doth protest too much, methinks.”

Betty groaned at the horrible, mangled Shakespearean line, but couldn’t stop the amusement bubbling in her chest. 

“Oh no,” she said, letting out a little laugh. “I believe that the lady doth think you’re a little heavy, your majesty.” She pushed against his shoulders for emphasis. 

Jason just rolled his eyes in response, and then rolled off Betty. He came to lie down beside her, his arm stretching over her waist to pull her against his body, her back to his chest. Betty could feel every single one of his lines and muscles, and it made her toes curl with delight.

Jason’s fingers curled against her skin, rubbing absently. He stared straight ahead.

“I really do mean it, though,” he said quietly.

Betty turned her head toward him. “Hmm?”

Jason bit his lower lip, nervous, but found his words. “You really are beautiful.”

Betty’s voice caught in her throat and she felt her eyes moisten. She slipped a hand over Jason’s, twining together their fingers.

“Thank you,” she whispered, closing her eyes. She wouldn’t fall asleep — she’d just rest her eyes for a little bit with Jason by her side, keeping her company…

“Betty?”

When Betty’s eyes opened, she found herself in the back of Archie’s car, on the backseat, sans Jason, with the unpleasant realization that it’d been just a dream. For a moment, she wanted to cry, like she usually did when she woke from a dream in her bed at home, but she felt too tired to even make the effort, and instead mourned quietly.

For a couple seconds, she was caught in her own thoughts, before realizing where she was and what was going on. She was at the drive-in, in Archie’s car, and the movie was playing on the big screen, looking to be halfway through the plot. Cheryl Blossom was also looking at Betty with concern.

Betty’s murky thoughts began to clear, and she shifted in her seat, moving her legs and knocking her foot against a tissue box at her feet.

The sound of Betty stirring was enough to catch Archie and Jughead’s attention from where they were sat up front, watching the movie. They turned around in their seats to look back, faces morphing to a mixture of concern and general inquiry.

“Did you fall asleep, Bets,” Archie asked. He wanted to ask her something different, but the audience and the time were not on his side, and he kept his question simple.

The attention made Betty slightly uncomfortable, and her cheeks reddened like the red petaled flowers of Cheryl’s mansion’s garden. She sat up in her seat, clearing her throat, willing the awkward to go away.

“Uhm, yeah. I guess so,” she said lamely, face apologetic. She inwardly winced at how uncertain she sounds. “Sorry,” she tried again with a clearer tone.

Jughead had been quiet for a bit, watching Betty carefully, before waving a hand and shrugging his shoulders nonchalantly.

“It’s fine, Betty. It’s good you got some zees.” He gave her a reassuring smile, seeming to understand Betty’s discomfort.

Across from Betty, Cheryl was studying Betty as well, face concentrated in thought. She studied Betty five seconds longer, before her face morphed into realization, and then a smile.

Cheryl took Betty’s hand into her hand, and Betty looked at their joined hands before looking up into Cheryl’s face. 

“How about a milkshake to help the blood sugar, Cooper,” Cheryl suggested, eyes insistent, brows arched with meaning.

Jughead perked up, temporarily putting his concern in the backseat to switch places with his hunger. “Hey, yeah! I could go for one or four.”

“Or four?” Archie shot Jughead an amused look, knowing very well that his friend wasn’t exaggerating. He then turned to Betty, smiling in a way he hoped was encouraging.

“A milkshake sounds good to me, too,” he offered.

Betty looked from Archie to Jughead, to Cheryl, and saw matching looks of earnestness on all three faces. But there was concern in their eyes, and her stomach twisted a little at the guilt of having caused that reaction.

She forced a smile to her lips and nodded, wanting to make her friends happy.

“I’d really love a milkshake right now, actually,” she agreed.

Cheryl let go of Betty’s hands and clasped hers together with a gleeful expression Betty had not yet before seen on Cheryl’s face.

“Perfect!” Cheryl exclaimed. Before Betty could react, Cheryl had taken Betty’s hand once more and was now opening the car down to Cheryl’s left and giving it a firm kick open. She pulled Betty out of the car, careful to not yank on Betty’s arm too hard, letting go of Betty’s hand to smooth out her skirt before turning around to Archie’s window.

She held out a hand, fingers curled. “I’ll pay for Betty’s and mine’s drinks, but you and the lughead need to fork over some change for yours.”

Jughead made a face at Cheryl at the nickname, but scrounged in his sweater’s pockets for money. Next to him, Archie did the same. The boys came away with several different dollar bills, each a little crumpled.

“Sure you can carry all four by yourself?” Archie asked as Cheryl pocketed the money.

Cheryl wrinkled her nose at him. “They’re milkshakes, Andrews. Not barbells.” She rolled her eyes and turned back to Betty, taking Betty’s hand once again.

“We’ll just ask for a tray,” Betty reassured Archie, smiling at him over her shoulder.

Archie gave her a relieved smile. “Okay,” he agreed. “Just don’t overdo it.”

Cheryl scoffed at Archie’s reminder, rolling her wrist. 

“We’ll be back,” she announced, and began leading Betty towards the concession stands, Betty having to hurry her feet to keep up with Cheryl’s high-heeled feet.

The lines at the counters of the concession stands weren’t too long for Betty and Cheryl to wait, and after two minutes of waiting their turn, they were able to order. Betty tried to order one more milkshake for Jughead, but Cheryl stopped her, telling the cashier to keep the number at four and to just super-size the order.

The cashier was a little amused at Cheryl’s charge, but did as Cheryl ordered and told the girls to wait at the next window for their drink order.

Cheryl looked down at her feet while Betty looked over at the condiments and utensils table, both unsure how to act without anyone to prompt them. While their moment in the girls’ restroom at school had give them an understanding start, they were still two different people with two different background, who hadn’t ever had a real conversation in years beyond Cheryl being snide and Betty backing up Veronica.

But Cheryl was braver than she acted, and she lifted her head to look at Betty, studying Betty.

“You were asleep for the first act of the movie,” Cheryl informed.

Betty turned back to Cheryl, cheeks red. “Sorry,” she apologized. “I haven’t been really getting any sleep at night.” She blamed the over-abundance of nightmares.

Cheryl’s expression lightened with concern, and Betty realized that she hadn’t given thought to perhaps Cheryl having the same issue. The gaze between the girls was sympathetic.

“I know the feeling,” Cheryl said softly.

Betty nodded, biting her lip. She almost bit down hard when the window next to them slid open and a different concession stand employee pushed a tray of four milkshakes at her.

“Here’s your order,” the employee blandly told the girls, then shut the window before Betty could thank him.

Cheryl rolled glared at the window for a second before taking Betty over to the condiments and utensils table, taking the tray of drinks out of Betty’s hands.

Betty watched silently as Cheryl gathered their straws and some napkins, before following Cheryl back towards Archie’s car. At about halfway there, Cheryl stopped walking, and looked down at the drinks.

Betty was about to ask Cheryl what was the matter when a thin, hesitant voice emerged from Cheryl’s throat.

“We…we had a fight…before he went to camp.”

Betty knew Cheryl was talking about Jason.

“I told him some…pretty nasty things,” Cheryl admitted, eyes glancing over at Betty, nervous. It was obvious that Cheryl was ashamed of herself, and Betty remembered Jason venting to her about Cheryl back at camp.

Ah, yes. The fight.

From what Jason had told Betty, Cheryl had not reacted as well as Jason had hoped when Jason informed Cheryl that he’d be missing their summer trip to California in order to be a camp counselor at Camp Rapids. And Betty had understood why Cheryl was upset — Jason had said that going to California together every summer was practically tradition for the Blossom twins, and while Jason had given Cheryl enough notice, Cheryl had apparently thought Jason would go with Cheryl anyways at the last minute.

Unfortunately, that had not been the case, and right before Jason headed off to catch the bus to camp, Cheryl had thrown what must have been the mother of all tantrums, telling Jason that she never wanted to see him again and to stay at Camp Rapids forever for all she cared.

Jason had been pretty upset about the fight, and when he first told Betty, he’d needed to take a pause to jump into the river to cool off for a bit. He felt guilty for upsetting Cheryl, but also frustrated that his sister had reacted so badly. Because Cheryl and Jason weren’t just siblings, they were also best friends, and though the occasional interval of rivalry caused them to butt heads, the siblings were incredibly close.

Close enough that, though Cheryl’s words had hurt Jason, he hadn’t taken them to heart.

“I know she’s just angry right now,” he’d said, feeling a little lighter now that he’d told someone. “She didn’t mean it.”

Betty had been curled up against his side on the dock, not caring that Jason was still dripping wet from his dunk in the water. She put her hand over his, twining their fingers together.

Jason had glanced down at their hands, before giving Betty a grateful look, his green eyes warm and calm.

“You should try to talk to her,” Betty had advised. “Or, at least, give her a sign that you aren’t too mad at her.”

Jason had nodded, agreeing, and pulled out his phone from Betty’s pants pocket where she’d kept it when Jason jumped into the water. He fiddled with the device, mouth a thin line from concentration.

Betty had tried to take a look at his screen, but Jason had leaned aways, looking at her with a sly smile.

“No peeking, Cooper,” he’d chided in the same tone he used to direct their little campers.

Betty had stuck her tongue out at him, and Jason had laughed. He finished whatever he was doing with his phone, before sticking it back in Betty’s pants pocket. Betty looked down at her pocket for a second, considering the possibility of pulling out the phone and checking for herself, before she decided giving Jason a look was a better use of her time.

Jason’s eyes had been big and naughty and Betty’s heart had skipped like a little girl playing hopscotch on the school playground.

The memory was a sharp contrast to the pain in Cheryl’s eyes.

Betty cleared her head of the image of Jason’s smiling face and put a hand on Cheryl’s shoulder.

“He didn’t take them seriously,” Betty told Cheryl. She felt a genuine smile curve her lips when Cheryl looked back with hope in her green eyes.

“Really?” her voice was soft — softer than Betty had ever heard before.

Betty nodded. “Really.” She removed her hand from Cheryl’s shoulder. “He told me that, while you are a ‘downright pain in his ass’…that you’re still his favorite sister.”

Cheryl blinked at Betty, eyes wide with surprise and a confused twist to her lips, before she began cracking up. Her shoulders shook and her beautiful red hair bounced on her shoulders.

Betty remembered that Jason once told her that he had always thought his sister was the most beautiful when she was truly happy. And Betty could now understand why.

It took more than a couple seconds for Cheryl’s giggles to settle, and when she looked back at Betty the blonde saw moisture in Cheryl’s eyes.

“That creep,” Cheryl opined. She sniffed, trying to regain her composure. “I’m his ONLY sister.”

Cheryl’s happiness was infectious, and Betty laughed. And for a moment, they were just two girls, laughing about a silly boy who meant the world to them.

When they were done, Cheryl’s shoulders were a little higher and the smile on her face was genuine.

“C’mon,” she said. “Let’s get back to the car, before lughead comes and hunts us down.”

Betty snickered. “He would.”

They made it back to the car in time to see Captain Khan defeat the Big Bad on the big screen. Jughead was too engrossed in the film to notice the girl’s approaching, but Archie heard Cheryl’s heels clicks.

He turned to look out his window, smiling at them. “You made it back!”

Jughead peeled his attention from the movie to look back at the girls as well. His eyes immediately zeroed in on the tray of milkshakes in Cheryl’s hands.

“Is that my milkshake?” he asked, pointing a finger.

Cheryl frowned, while Betty hide a smile by biting her lip conspicuously. Trust Jughead’s stomach to take charge.

“Is food all you really think about, Jones?” Cheryl asked with a tired tone, walking over to Archie’s window and handing over the tray.

Jughead’s eyes followed the tray. “It’s the most appealing thing to me right now,” he quipped, causing Cheryl’s brow to furrow.

Betty opened the backseat car door and gently Cheryl in with her.

“Was that a crack, Jones?” Cheryl asked, tone rising slightly. She was gearing up for a good Sass Back.

Before Jughead could respond as expected, Archie stopped him by nudging Jughead in the side with an elbow, rolling his eyes and balancing the tray in his lap.

“No fighting before the movie ends, you guys.” Archie was ever the peacekeeper.

Cheryl rolled her eyes at Archie’s chiding and Jughead rubbed at his side with an offended look. “She started it,” he said with a little whine.

Archie shook his head, held up the tray, and offered Jughead the first pick. Jughead selected his and immediately began sipping at the straw, fight forgotten. Archie took his drink next before handing it back to the girls.

Cheryl put the tray between her and Betty’s seats, taking her drink out as well.

She relaxed back into the seat’s old brown polyester and made herself cozy. Betty quickly followed the redheaded girl’s example and took her own milkshake into hand.

“What’d we miss?” Cheryl asked.

Archie paused in sipping his drink. “You guys missed Captain Khan rescuing Janet Sparks from the crumbling acropolis.”

Cheryl’s eyes widened slightly.

“I saw that while we were waiting in line,” she said. “Did they finally kiss?”

That made Jughead make a disgruntled noise. It was well known that Jughead detested big romance scenes in his superhero movies. Or any movie, at all — movie nights with Jughead usually involved fast forwarding through any schmalzy love scenes, lest the audience wished to hear Jughead feign gagging on his popcorn.

“No,” Jughead told Cheryl with a grouchy tone. “Janet Sparks hit Captain Khan and told him that she’s ‘not some damsel in distress’, before telling him to go after the bad guy.”

Cheryl’s brow furrowed with disappointment, and Archie muttered something along the lines of “oh no” before Cheryl and Jughead started another fantastic back and forth.

Betty sipped her milkshake, finding it delicious, and settled back into her seat, eyes falling closed as she listened to the sounds of Cheryl and Jughead argue, while Archie tried to plead with them to save it for after the movie.

Archie had been right at the beginning of the night.

It had been fun.

 

At the end of the night, when the movie finished, Cheryl and Jughead actually argued-out (a miracle, at least to Archie), and Archie had to drive back to Cheryl’s mansion, Betty felt much happier than she had in a while.

She and Cheryl talked about good superhero romances in the backseat on the drive to the Blossom home, Jughead remaining respectfully silent despite his distaste in the topic. 

When Archie’s car finally drove up to the gates of the Blossom’s mansion, Cheryl had to roll down her window to push the button on the little box on the left side of the gates. There was a little speaker and microphone attached to the box, and Cheryl spoke into it.

“Daddy, I’m home from the movie.”

The gates opened not a minute after, and Cheryl said “thank you” into the microphone before tucking back into the car and waiting as Archie drove all the way up the garage of the Blossom home.

There was a stone path leading from the garage to the front steps of the mansion. The path was bordered by over four dozen rows of red flowers, which Betty to be the Blossom family’s insignia.

Cheryl hesitated getting out of the car, her fingers holding on the car door’s handle with definite uncertainty. She turned back to look at Betty in the car.

“Would you mind coming in for a moment?” she asked. She was giving Betty a pleading look, and Betty nodded, stepping out of the car.

“I’ll be right back,” she told Archie and Jughead.

Archie nodded. “It’s cool. We’ll wait.” He leaned over Jughead to give Cheryl a small wave goodbye. “Thanks for coming to the movies with us, Cheryl. We should do it again sometime soon!”

Jughead muttered something under his breath, but Archie elbowed his friend, giving him a look of warning.

Cheryl wasn’t sure how to respond to Archie’s gratitude, and nodded. “I’ll see if my schedule opens up,” she returned. She gave Archie one tiny smile before she turned to Betty and the two girls began walking walking to Cheryl’s house’s front door.

It opened right before Cheryl could put her hand on the gold door handle, a tall man with the same shade of red as Cheryl and Jason holding the door open. His face was pale, but his eyes were relieved when they found Cheryl.

Betty recognized the man as Clifford Blossom, the president of Blossom Inc., also Jason and Cheryl’s father. He had the same head of red hair as Jason, but where Jason’s face had been clean and shaven, Mr. Blossom had both a beard and mustache. Also like Jason, he had rugged good looks, but there was something sentimental and soft in his eyes, especially when it concerned his children.

Like right now, as Mr. Blossom opened his arms to accept Cheryl’s excited hug, folding his little girl into his embrace with a tightness that was both loving as well as grateful.

“It’s good to have you home, sweetheart,” Mr. Blossom said into Cheryl’s head of luxurious red hair.

Cheryl squeezed her father for reassurance, burrowing her face into his shoulder. Betty looked away respectfully, feeling that she was intruding on an intimate family moment. But when she looked back, Cheryl and Mr. Blossom were parting, and Mr. Blossom was looking right at Betty.

Betty smiled shyly.

“And who is this, sweetheart?” Mr. Blossom asked.

Cheryl smiled and gestured out a hand. “This is Betty Cooper, daddy.” She put her hands on her father’s arm. “She and Jason were dating.”

At the mention of his deceased son, a light dimmed in Mr. Blossom’s emerald green eyes, but his lips smiled for Betty. “Oh yes,” he said, and held out a hand for Betty to shake. Not knowing what else to do, stomach flipping and flopping spectacularly, Betty did so and was surprised at the strength of Mr. Blossom’s hand.

“Jason was an amazing person, Mr. Blossom,” Betty said, feeling that she had to tell Mr. Blossom something.

Mr. Blossom’s smile was sad, but grateful, and Cheryl was nodding next to him. “Thank you, Betty.” He then surprised Betty by putting his other hand over hers and squeezing it with purpose. Betty forced herself to keep eye contact with the man despite her nervousness, and was inwardly relieved when he finally let go of her hand.

“I’ve got some things to finish up before bed,” he told Cheryl. He then looked to Betty. “It was nice meeting you, Ms. Cooper.” He nodded his head once at Betty, gave Cheryl one last hug, before turning to go down the hall. He disappeared around a corridor, leaving Cheryl and Betty at the entrance.

Her father gone, Cheryl’s shoulders dropped and she let out a breath Betty had not been realized that Cheryl had been holding.

“Sorry about that,” Cheryl apologized.

Betty shook her head. “It’s okay, Cheryl.”

Cheryl looked down at the ornately carpeted floor, lips thin of hesitance, before her green eyes met Betty’s blue eyes. “I’m also sorry about the way I’ve treated you.”

Betty was confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’ve always treated you pretty crappy, Betty.” Cheryl held Betty’s gaze. “I know I did give you warnings when Jason was on his Womanizer Mode, but I think I only did that because it gave Jason a hard time.”

Betty frowned. “Don’t sell yourself short, Cheryl. You were looking out for me.”

Cheryl didn’t say anything. She though about what Betty had said.

Before Betty started to take dating Jason seriously, there had been times where Jason tried to “play the field”, so to speak. And while that had been fine with Betty, who had still been switching between seeing Jason and seeing Archie, it hadn’t sat right with Cheryl. She’d recognized her brother’s nasty habit re-emerging and told Jason that if he wanted to have a real relationship with a girl, then he’d have to stop switching his dates around and focus on one girl. And when Jason had laughed in Cheryl’s face, Cheryl had gone to Betty herself, warning Betty to stay on her guard and not let Jason try to rush things.

When Jason found out what Cheryl had done, he’d been livid.

“What’s the deal meddling in my life!” he’d shouted at Cheryl one night after they’d gotten home from school.

“The ‘deal’, little brother, is that you want Betty Cooper,” Cheryl had fired back, using her favorite tactic of reminding Jason of their age difference.

Jason’s nose had wrinkled and he’d scowled. “You were born six minutes before me, Cheryl!” He always resented Cheryl for that. “So stop with the condescending ‘little brother’ talk and explain to me why you’re suddenly looking out for Betty.”

Cheryl had scowled. “I get that you like to play the field, Jason, and maybe those girls you dated in the past were fun for fooling around, but Betty Cooper isn’t like those girls.”

“A little sexist there, aren’t you, sis?”

“Oh, shut up!” Cheryl had near grit her teeth. “Those girls were okay with getting called up last minute for casual hook-ups, Jason. And they were even fine with you not giving them the time of day after the fact. But Betty Cooper isn’t going to want some casual fling in the back of your corvette.”

Jason’s eyes had been like liquid fire. “And what makes you the expert on what Betty wants? You spend more time arguing with her best friend than you do giving Betty the time of day.”

Cheryl had rolled her eyes heavenward, praying for her brother’s logic to start kicking in soon.

“Get over yourself, Jason. It doesn’t take a genius to know that Betty Cooper is one of the nicest, most genuine people in school. And she’s already getting burned half the time by Andrews and Lodge. So the fact that she gives someone like you a chance to get close? Means she honestly likes you.”

That made Jason quiet, and the fire in his eyes disappeared, snuffed out by Cheryl’s words. It gave Cheryl the motivation to continue.

“You’re always bitching about how Betty keeps going for Archie instead of sticking to you, but Jason, you’re just doing the same thing as Archie!” Albeit, Archie wasn’t one for the hook-up culture like Jason was.

“You want Betty to yourself? Fine. Then give up all those other girls and put some effort into winning Betty over.” She’d had Jason’s full attention. “Show her that you can give her what Andrews doesn’t.”

That had been the turning point for Jason Blossom. When he’d taken his sister’s advice and actually found himself getting closer to Betty. And, surprise surprise, he’d found that he didn’t need those other girls on the side. Of course, he’d still had to compete with Archie, and Cheryl had been ever the supportive sister in consoling Jason when Archie decided to give Betty attention, but in the end, it was Jason who Betty had chosen.

And Cheryl would have been so happy for Jason, if not for the fact that Jason had cancelled his and Cheryl’s trip to California to be a camp counselor over the summer WITH Betty. It’d also been what made Cheryl quite icy to Betty after Jason’s death. Because, in the end, Betty had been the last one to see Jason alive.

For a while, she’d even entertained some nasty thoughts that maybe Betty had killed Jason, but common sense had eventually kicked her brain and reminded Cheryl that Betty could never do something so horrible. Especially not to Jason.

Remembering those old, dark thoughts now, Cheryl felt even more guilty. But Betty’s hands were then on Cheryl’s shoulders, and when Cheryl looked up, she was looking into Betty’s deep blue eyes. She remembered one silly afternoon, when she’d caught Jason waxing poetic about those eyes.

“Cheryl. Listen to me.” Betty’s voice was no-nonsense, and would brook for no argument. “You were just being a good friend.”

Cheryl blinked in disbelief. “We weren’t friends, Betty.”

Betty frowned. “Yes, we were. You were just too stubborn to ask me.”

The sheer ridiculousness of Betty’s thinking made Cheryl laugh, and she felt her heart lighten, just as it had when Betty told Cheryl that Jason hadn’t been mad at Cheryl in the end.

“You’re insane, Cooper,” Cheryl giggled, and she smiled. “But if that’s how you want to see it, then I won’t stop you.”

Betty’s lips quirked, and Cheryl recognized it as something Jason used to do. Lips curved small, but there was enough smugness there to be gloating.

“That’s right,” Betty confirmed. “And we’re STILL friends.” She squeezed Cheryl’s shoulders. “Got it?” She winked.

Cheryl felt another bubble of laughter in her chest, but stifled it with a wide grin. “Sure,” she said, and it wasn’t sarcastic or anything misleading.

Betty let go of Cheryl’s shoulders. “Glad we’ve got that settled.” She then whipped out her phone. “Can I give you my number?”

Cheryl was once again caught by surprise. “What for?”

Betty gave Cheryl a dry look. “Friends share their numbers.”

There was something warm burgeoning in Cheryl’s chest, but she capped it down and pulled out her own phone. It only took a minute for the girls to exchange numbers, send the first texts, and then add one another to their respective address books. Before they put away their phones, Cheryl remembered something, and told Betty to wait while Cheryl opened up the messages on her phone.

It only took a few seconds for Cheryl to find the last message she’d received from Jason. She’d been pretty angry about it at the time and had deleted it, but luckily, she’d been able to un-delete it not a week later, about a week before Jason had been killed, over a fit of remorse.

Jason’s last message contained a picture Jason had sent from Camp Rapids. It was him of Betty sitting around a campfire, surrounded by fellow camp counselors. Betty was leaning her head on Jason’s shoulder, smiling softly, and Jason was holding both of their sticks for roasting marshmallows. He looked so happy, next to the girl of his dreams, participating in an activity as childish as roasting marshmallows.

One of the other camp counselors must have taken the picture, because the camera framing was different than the one from Jason’s phone (he and Cheryl had the same phone models) and must have sent it to Jason after taking the photo. Jason had then sent it to Cheryl, along with the text message, “having good time @ camp. wish u were here with me. we’d have even more fun. sorry bout bailing on our trip 2 cali. see u back @ home.”

Cheryl had first been angry that Jason dared to try to step past their fight with something as blatant as a picture of Jason and his girlfriend having a wonderful time while Cheryl was miserable at home. But then she’d had time to cool off, and she realized that she was acting like a brat because her brother was happy.

She’d been ready to bury the hatchet after two days of ruminating, but then, Camp Rapids had called Cheryl’s father and delivered the horrible news. And Cheryl had immediately forgotten her resolve as grief and anger took over her mind.

Now, with Betty right there, Cheryl remembered.

“Jason sent me this while you guys were at camp,” Cheryl explained. She forwarded the message to Betty’s phone, and it took less than a minute for it to appear on Betty’s phone screen. Betty was absolutely silent as she stared wide-eyed down at her phone.

“Jason would want you to have it,” Cheryl continued solemnly, watching Betty’s face.

Betty continued staring at the screen for another half minute before she lifted her head, and Cheryl saw the beginning of tears in Betty’s eyes.

“Th-thank you,” Betty said, and tears slid down her cheeks. “This means a lot t-to me.” She sniffed, reaching up a hand to wipe at her eyes.

Seeing Betty cry made Cheryl want to cry, and within seconds, she too was crying.

“Jason was completely crazy about you, Cooper.” She knew her makeup was starting to run, but didn’t care. It was no one but her and Cooper in this moment. “And I’m glad that he was happy before he died.”

Betty nodded, clutching her phone. “I’m glad I could make him happy.” She looked down at her phone for a moment, before back up at Cheryl. And then she was moving fast, wrapping around Cheryl. “Thank you, Cheryl,” she sobbed.

What could Cheryl do in response except put her own arms around Betty and squeeze the blonde, feeling that she was able to finally share her grief about Jason properly with someone who loved Jason almost as much as Cheryl loved him.

Their moment last another minute, before Betty’s phone buzzed and they had to part. A quick check at the screen showed Betty a text message from Archie, asking her if everything was all right.

“I better get going,” she sheepishly told Cheryl, pocketing her phone.

Cheryl nodded, wiping away the remaining moisture at her eyes. “Right.”

“Thanks for coming with us to the movies tonight.”

Cheryl smiled. “It wasn’t as horrible as I thought it would be.”

Betty rolled her eyes, but smiled with good nature. “You should come with us on more outings, sometime.” She then realized something, and looked so shyly at Cheryl that it made Cheryl laugh.

“If you don’t mind, that is…”

“Miss the chance of annoying lughead?” Cheryl grinned. “Count me in, Cooper.”

They exchanged hugs one last time before Betty saw herself out, Cheryl waiting in the doorway to see that Betty got to the car all right. She even waited until Betty got into the car and gave one last wave, before Archie turned the car around the large driveway and drove down to the entrance to the street.

She was so focused on watching the car disappear down the road that she didn’t realize her father had come up beside her, watching as well.

“She seemed like a nice girl,” he said, startling Cheryl.

“Daddy!” Cheryl exclaimed, half admonishment. She waited for her heartbeat to calm before addressing him again. “Betty’s always been a nice girl, daddy.”

Mr. Blossom nodded, but his face was blank, almost unreadable. “You should invite her to speak at his funeral next month.”

Cheryl’s brows rose. “The police are finally releasing his body?”

It’d been almost two months since Jason had died, and in those months the police had refused to release Jason’s body to the Blossom family. They’d explained that they wanted to have an autopsy done with a highly lauded forensic specialist, and the Blossoms had agreed to wait, but after almost two months of finding no signs of foul play, Mr. Blossom had been the first to wearily request his son’s body be returned for proper burial.

“It took some hard words, but they’ve agreed to be done in time for Jason’s funeral next month,” Mr. Blossom explained.

Jason was to be buried in the Riverdale Heights Cemetery, beside Jason and Cheryl’s mother, Penelope Blossom. Thinking about it made Cheryl’s eyes begin to moisten, but she refused to cry with her father right there.

“Jason would want Betty to be a speaker, don’t you think?”

Cheryl nodded. “I’m sure Betty would be happy to say something,” she assured her father.

Mr. Blossom smiled, but it didn’t reach the corners of his mouth. He folded his arms behind his back, clasping his hands. “Tell me her response as soon as possible,” he requested. He then turned to Cheryl, bending forward slightly to put a kiss upon her brow.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Cheryl gave her father a watery smile. “Goodnight, daddy.” She then watched him walk away, up the stairs, and then down the hallway. She waited until he was gone to glance back out the doorway, finding the streets now empty.

 

For once, Betty’s dreams were free of darkness that night. Unfortunately, they were brief, as she was woken around two in the morning by bile rising in her stomach and to her throat.

She was able to make it to the bathroom on time where she immediately knelt down to relieve her stomach of its contents at the porcelain basin. It only took her a minute this time to full empty out the bile, leaving a horrible taste in her mouth. She let herself stay there on her knees for another minute before pulling the lever to flush the toilet, and trying to stand up on shaky limbs.

A hand at her back startled her, and she whirled around.

Polly was standing a foot away in her nightshirt and slippers, holding a glass of water, face an reflection of thoughtfulness. She pushed it towards Betty, waiting for her little sister to calm down from her fright.

Betty accepted the glass, grateful, before stepping around Polly to get to the sink.

“What are you doing up,” she asked, setting down the glass and turning on the sink faucet. The large mirror on the wall showed Betty that Polly was still standing behind her, now looking at Betty with concentration.

“I heard my sister throwing up for the hundredth time this month and decided enough was enough,” Polly said, stepping closer.

Betty’s shoulders tensed and she felt her heart start in panic. She tried to disguise it by nonchalantly shrugging her shoulders. She took up the glass of water and began swishing the contents around in her mouth before spitting it out into the sink basin.

“What do you mean?”

Polly’s brows narrowed, and her mouth frowned. There was warning in the lines of her face. “You’ve been getting sick every morning around the time for a month, Betty.”

Betty looked up at Polly’s reflection, frowning. “I’ve been sick, Polly.”

Polly shook her head. “Consistently sick,” she corrected. “Each morning, early hour.”

Betty looked down at the sink, the water still running. She turned off the faucet. “You’ve been keeping track?”

“Of course I have!” Polly’s tone had climbed an octave, and Betty realized how she’d sounded.

“I’m sorry, Polly,” she tried to apologize.

Polly’s face softened, and the concern was back. “Betty, I was thinking back to when you got sick at school.” She looked imploringly at her sister’s reflection. “Why didn’t you want Mom and Dad to take you to the hospital?”

Betty’s skin prickled. “I didn’t want to give them more reason to worry,” she answered honestly.

“Because the doctors might find out what was making you sick?”

Betty nodded. “Right.”

Polly was now at Betty’s side, both sisters looking at each other through their reflections. There was no noise, no movement, and Betty’s heart sped up a step.

“Do you know what’s making you sick, Betty?”

“I…have an idea.”

Polly closed her eyes. “Do you think the doctors would have found the same thing if you’d gone to the hospital?”

Betty didn’t know how to answer her sister, so she said, “I don’t know.”

Polly’s fingers found Betty’s, and Betty squeezed them at lack of a better thing to do in response.

“Were you and Jason having sex during the summer?”

“Yes.”

“And you used protection?”

“Of course.”

“And you both knew that, even with protection, it can sometimes fail?”

Betty turned to her sister, and found Polly’s blue eyes looking right into her own. There were wells of understanding in the depths, and Betty felt her knees go weak. She said nothing, not knowing what with to respond to Polly’s question.

Polly took the silence for a response and continued. “Have you had your period yet?”

Betty shook her head. “No.” She remembered the day she realized she’d missed her cycle, and the terror she’d felt.

“Have you taken a pregnancy test?”

“No.” She’d been too scared of what she might find if she did. Not to mention, Riverdale was such a small town that if she HAD gone to get a test, then someone would have somehow found out and told everyone else, customer confidentiality be damned. It usually happened that way in Riverdale.

“If I gave you a pregnancy test, would you take it?”

Betty’s eyes went wide. “You bought a pregnancy test?”

Polly nodded her head. “Will you take it?”

Betty felt her stomach shift unpleasantly, heartbeat catching up in her chest from trepidation, but she nodded right back at Polly, saying, “yes.” But then, she added on, “will you stay with me while I wait for the result?”

Polly smiled warmly. “Of course.”

It turned out, Polly had gotten the pregnancy test four days ago from gas station not far from Riverdale. She’d had to drive out a bit to get there, but she’d obviously been thinking of Betty’s privacy the entire time. She’d towed it away beneath her dresser, knowing it was the safest hiding place. It only took Polly a minute to go back to her room to get it, and bring it back to the bathroom she and Betty shared.

Polly waited outside the bathroom while Betty followed the test’s instructions, and came back in when Betty opened the door. The two sisters waited at the counter, while on a square of toilet paper next to the sink, the pink pregnancy test stick sat, no results yet.

Betty hugged her arms to her body as she waited, biting her lip. A sinking feeling in her stomach said she already knew what the result of the test would be, but somehow, she needed proof to believe it. 

And it wasn’t as if she’d been unaware. She had known that when she’d first gotten sick that something was wrong. Betty rarely got sick, unless it was some flu bug circulating the school. She always ate her vegetables, drank her fruit juice, and took her vitamins like she should. But she’d given herself leeway since returning home from camp after Jason’s death, or at least, she’d not really kept track. 

It was hard to keep a check on yourself when you were too busy grieving. That, coupled with the lethargy she experienced with her drop in mood, Betty had simply assumed she was depressed. So when she’d started waking up early in the morning to throw up, she’d started getting some ideas. And those ideas had scared her, because it wasn’t like her to not keep track of her body, and when she tried to think back to the last time she had, she began to panic.

Probably, that panic had been what caused Betty’s violent bout of sickness at school that one day. Because that’d been the day that she’d passed the month mark of missing her menstrual cycle, and being the smart girl she was, she’d added up her symptoms.

She’d been terrified when her parents wanted to take her to hospital, and had been utterly unreasonable throughout her entire argument with them, until they finally agreed to not take her to see a doctor. And though it had been unlike her, Betty had tried to push the fear to back of her mind, not wanting to think about it.

Of course, now that someone else knew, Betty couldn’t ignore the problem any longer.

She and Polly only had to wait two minutes before the test finally displayed the result. And it only took one look at the two bright pink lines to make Betty tear up.

“Oh God,” she whispered.

Polly had her arms around Betty in an instant, gently guiding Betty’s head to lay on Polly’s shoulder. “It’s okay,” she said, beginning to massage little circles into Betty’s back.

Betty closed her eyes, tears streaking down her cheeks.

“I’m pregnant.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading this chapter! I hope you are looking forward to the next one, which I'll try to have out as soon as possible, though I'd estimate maybe a little less than a week.
> 
> I know it was pretty obvious that Betty was pregnant, so I'm sorry if I didn't make it more mysterious, but I didn't want to drag it out long, because I want to get to more plot things as we go.


	3. Realizations and Coping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, I'm not exactly the happiest with this chapter but it needed to be written before we go forward. I hope you enjoy it, though I understand if not. It just basically builds some momentum.

CHAPTER THREE:

Betty let herself cry in Polly’s arms for a good five minutes, Polly rocking Betty through the tears, repeating the mantra of “it’s okay” over and over again into Betty’s hair. 

She had to let go, however, when Betty suddenly shoved Polly away and swung back around to the toilet, bending over just in time to empty her stomach one more round. Polly patted Betty’s back through the vomitting, and then helped Betty back to the sink to rinse out her mouth one more time. 

All the while, one thought reverberated in Betty’s brain: I’m pregnant with Jason’s baby.

She had to grasp at the counter corner to steady herself, feeling more than a bit woozy. 

“You okay, Betty?”

“Ulp. No.”

She bowed her head over the sink and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to prevent herself from getting dizzy. But it was hard to have control over herself with panic is flooding from all pores, her heart rate racing faster than Archie’s old car that time the brakes had gone out, and it only caused Betty more stress.

Polly must have figured out what was going on, because she quickly took a hand towel and flipped the faucet on COLD, before wetting it. She only needed to wring it out once before she pressed it to Betty’s brow, almost instantly relieving Betty of an oncoming wave of nausea.

“Just breathe,” Polly advised carefully. She’d taken several classes at the community center on proper reactionary response care when she’d been working part time as a babysitter in high school. She’d also had an in-depth health class in her freshman year of highs school that touched on handling panic attacks and the proper reaction to someone having a breakdown. She forced herself to recall everything she’d learned to better help Betty.

“Remember,” Polly continued. “Take in a breath…and then breathe it out the nose.”

Betty did as she was instructed, forcing air through her lungs and to her nostrils, concentrating on the breath’s movement through her body. At first, it didn’t do much, but after the second and third breath, she started to calm down. The wet towel at her brow suddenly felt colder, and she concentrated on the feeling. She did this several more times before she finally felt she had her grip back.

“Okay,” she said. “I think…I’m good.” She opened her eyes, looking into the mirror. Polly still held the wet towel to her sister’s brow, face full of concern. When she met Betty’s eyes in the mirror reflection, she removed the towel, setting it aside on the counter.

“Thank you,” Betty whispered. She let go of the counter, finally feeling stable enough to stand on her own. But even if she hadn’t felt stable, Polly pulled Betty back into her arms, squeezing her sister reassuringly. “Let’s do something else for a bit, okay?”

Betty nodded silently into her sister’s shoulder.

Though Polly was reluctant to let Betty go, she did so that Betty could go dispose of the pregnancy test properly and wash her hands and face at the sink. When Betty was satisfied with that, she followed Polly downstairs to the kitchen, where they began gathering supplies for sundaes.

They foraged around the freezer in the kitchen for some chocolate ice cream, and found some stuck in the back by the microwavable dinners. They also got out some bowls and spoons, chocolate sauce, sprinkles, and all other manners of toppings. They each scooped two nicely sized scoops servings of ice cream into their bowls, careful to not clink the silverware in the bowls. And when opening and shutting cabinets and drawers, they did so softly, so as to not wake their parents.

Together, they made two bowls of utterly decadent and decorated sundaes, and after capping the containers, sticking the ice cream back in the freezer, they moved to the living room. It was the furthest room from their parents bedroom, which meant the girls could talk without fear of waking their parents. 

They made themselves comfortable on opposite ends of the couch, pillows cushioning their backs, before digging into their sundaes.

It was an old trick of Polly’s from when her and Betty were little. There were times when Betty was so upset by something that she remained so even going to bed. Polly had shared a room with Betty at the time, so she’d always watched Betty toss and turn under the covers, making little noises of discontent. And though Betty had gone to bed angry, guilt would give her misery halfway through the night, making it difficult for her to sleep.

So Polly would pull her little sister out of bed, take Betty quietly down to the kitchen, and fix the both of them spectacular ice cream sundaes as quietly as possible. They’d then find somewhere comfy to sit and have Betty talk about how she felt. It let Betty get things off her chest and also gave her something sweet to enjoy, so the night wasn’t entirely ruined by her bad mood. She ended up feeling much better by the time she finished her dessert, and fell asleep easily despite her large sugar intake.

Polly hoped that it would have the same effect now as it had in the past.

Betty took three spoonfuls of her dessert before speaking her mind, “I don’t know what I’m going to do.” 

Polly swallowed a spoonful of chocolate-drizzled rocky-road ice cream. “We’ll take it one day at a time.”

Betty grimaced. “That’s not enough time.”

She was eighteen years old, just started her senior year of high school, and her boyfriend had been murdered with her standing right next to him. And now she was pregnant? She already had plans made before she went off to camp at the start of summer. 

Betty had all her potential colleges lined up, vying for her pick, and she’d already narrowed the list down two universities, her resumes completed, organized, and all but ready to be sent out.

When she came home from camp, she’d pushed the papers away, feeling she needed to grieve more than she needed to work. And she’d felt safe in that thinking (as safe as she’d felt after returning home, traumatized by her experience).

But now? The reveal of her pregnancy took a high powered leaf-blower to Betty’s entire arrangement. 

Polly must have sensed Betty’s distress, because she paused in her spooning of ice cream. “You don’t have to make any decisions right away, Betty.”

The idea of waiting didn’t sit well with Betty. She felt an anxious itch under her skin telling her to take action — do something. 

Betty shook her head. “No.” She put down her spoon in her bowl. 

“I’ve waited long enough to take the test — I want to get all the information I can.” Worry then crossed her features and tangled in her stomach. “But I don’t want to see any doctors in Riverdale to do that…” She was pretty sure one of her classmates’ parents was an OBGYN at Riverdale’s hospital — someone would see.

But Polly allayed Betty’s fears. “There’s a Planned Parenthood about an hour’s drive away,” Polly opined. “We could go Friday after you get out of school.”

Relief bloomed in Betty’s chest. It wasn’t the entire plan, but it was a start, and it helped ease Betty’s trouble thoughts. “Tell Mom and Dad that we’re just out for some sister bonding time?” she offered.

Polly nodded. “Right.” Great minds thought alike, so she dug back into her ice cream bowl with her spoon. “Now eat your ice cream before it melts.” 

Later, after the ice cream was eaten, the girls had washed out their dishes as quietly as they could, and then tiptoed back upstairs. Polly even tucked Betty back into her bed, kissing Betty’s brow sweetly.

“I’m always going to be here for you,” Polly whispered. “No matter what. You’re not alone in this, Betty.” She gave Betty one last smile before leaving to go to her room.

Betty tried to go back to sleep, but found herself wide awake. Whether it was nervousness from finding out she was pregnant, or from the sugar she’d just consumed, Betty’s didn’t know. So she laid back in bed, staring at the ceiling, her thoughts moving freely.

She was scared out of her mind — and that was the honest truth. She had no idea what to think or do aside from what she’d planned with Polly. She wanted to gather all the information she possibly could and make an informed decision. However, that was going to take time, and Betty felt like, for once in her life, she couldn’t be patient.

A baby wasn’t something that could wait. Betty knew she’d only been having the symptoms for a month, but from what she’d learned in high school health classes, she could already be two months along. And that thought took her back to the summer, when she and Jason had first had sex, and wondered if that first time might have been when the protection had failed. But then, she and Jason had sex countless times over the summer, so pinpointing the exact moment felt ultimately pointless.

When she’d given up on that train of thought, she dipped into the focus on the words JASON and BABY. And she almost started to cry again. Because she was pregnant with Jason Blossom’s baby, and Jason’s wasn’t there to support Betty through it — if she did indeed decide to go through it. She wondered what Jason would think of Betty’s thinking — and then told herself that it didn’t matter, because it was her body and her decision.

And that it was her decision reminded her that if she had a baby, then she’d have to change all her plans, like college and career dreams. She couldn’t possibly go to any of those schools she wanted if she were to have the baby. She’d also have to find a way to work so she could support her and her baby — because while she was sure that her parents and Polly would support her, she didn’t like the idea of taking any money from her family. Not when they already had bills to pay and their own jobs to work.

Of course, she could discontinue the pregnancy, and be free of those concerns, but Jason’s face hovered in Betty’s mind, and she laid her hands atop her still flat belly, aware of the little bud of life beneath her navel. She tried to imagine that bud of life grown and in her arms, and had to dispel the image when it started to make her panic.

A baby was an entirely new human being with wants and needs and loads of responsibility, and could Betty handle that? She wanted to be that girl on those teen dramas who said “I can do this”, but it was still too early, too soon to make the decision.

Too soon to contemplate becoming a mother.

And those exact thoughts stayed in Betty’s brain up until an hour of ruminating passed, and Betty’s body cried exhaustion. She fell asleep thinking about Jason, the baby inside her body, and that no matter what decision she made in the end, Jason was’t going to be there for it.

 

Archie in all his red-haired glory was standing alongside Veronica the next morning when Veronica arrived to give Betty a ride to school. They were both leaning with their backs against Veronica’s limo, chatting, when Betty opened her front door and looked out at them, surprised.

“Archie?” she asked, blinking.

Archie lifted a hand up and smiled at Betty. “Hey, Bets.”

Veronica was quick with an explanation as Betty came down the front porch steps, once again meeting Betty at the last step. “His car’s battery went out this morning, so I offered him a ride.” She linked her arm with Betty’s and began walking them both to the car, Archie taking a silent cue to open the car door for the girls as they approached.

“Such a gentleman,” Veronica cooed to Archie as she helped Betty get seated. 

Betty took the far seat on the right, and expected Veronica to slide in beside her, but she was once again surprised when Archie took the middle seat. This lift Veronica to seat herself on the far left. Usually, Veronica liked to sit in the middle, because it made her a good buffer between Betty and Archie, as well as blocked off some of Betty’s access to the carrot-topped boy.

Betty supposed that Veronica was still trying to push Archie towards her in her belief that some quality time with Archie could ease Betty’s woes. While yesterday, it’d soured Betty’s mood, today, she wearily persevered, giving Archie and Veronica small smiles of gratitude. Eventually, she’d have to tell them that it wouldn’t work — that this wasn’t like when Betty had a bad day and Archie showing up with flowers and the offer of a date at the local diner was all it took to put a smile back on Betty’s face.

Archie’s kisses and shared milkshake weren’t going to make Betty feel better — especially now that she had the weight of being pregnant on her mind. It just made her even more reluctant to respond to the advances.

Nevertheless, she tried to participate in the conversation as the car drove to school. Archie was telling Veronica all about the Captain Khan movie that he, Jughead, Betty, and Cheryl had seen the other night, using wild hand movements for dramatic effect.

“You should have seen it, Ronnie! Captain Khan destroyed an ENTIRE missile with just one punch!”

“That sounds impossible, Archiekins.” Veronica remarked.

Archie’s eyes widened. “It’s a superhero movie, Ronnie. Impossible is always possible!”

Veronica shook her head, not believing him. “I need a little realism in my movies.”

Archie arched a brow. “So that movie you saw last week about the vampire falling in love with the werewolf…that was realism?”

Betty couldn’t help the little laugh she let out, earning her one of Veronica’s little offended glares. Veronica would have said something if not for Archie continuing to voice his disbelief in the supernatural romance genre.

“…how’d that even work?”

“It’s true love, Archiekins!”

“They only knew each other for one day!”

“Two people can fall in love in one day! Romeo and Juliet fell in love in under one hour.”

“Yeah, and Romeo and Juliet also killed themselves almost three days later!”

“Are you saying that Romeo and Juliet weren’t romantic, Archiekins?”

“No, I’m saying that Romeo and Juliet were insane!”

The two of them continued their argument up until the limo drove into the high school’s parking lot, when Betty loudly announced their arrival, stopping Veronica from attacking Archie’s sense of romance, and delaying Archie’s rebuttal that Veronica’s perception of romance was warped. 

“C’mon, you two! We don’t want to be late for class!” Betty exited the car as quickly as possible, before reaching into the car and pulling Archie by his hand, practically yanking on his arm. He stumbled as he grabbed his guitar case’s handle, and Veronica followed close at their heels, stopping once to shout “thank you” over her shoulder at her limo’s driver.

Once inside the school halls, Betty released Archie’s hand, her steps slowing to a comfortable stroll as she weaved through the crowd. She arrived at her locker five seconds before Veronica and Archie, already fiddling with her locker’s lock.

“You did that on purpose,” Veronica panted, having had to run to keep up with her friends.

Betty shrugged her shoulders with a knowing smile.

“Nice to know Betty’s still the peacemaker,” Archie said with a laugh.

Betty rolled her eyes, pulling her books out of her locker. “Someone has to be.”

Veronica flipped her hair over her shoulder with a sniff of disdain. “I still think Romeo and Juliet were a fine example of true love.”

Archie looked like he wanted to oppose, but Betty shot Archie a quick glare that kept Archie’s mouth shut.

“Of course they were, Ronnie,” Betty agreed. She was actually in a pretty good mood, and her friends noticed. Betty had woken up in a pretty neutral mood that morning, still weighed down by the previous night’s discovery, but less morose than she’d been the past mornings. She attributed her mood to her talk last night with Polly, having gotten a huge weight off her mind by finally taking the pregnancy test and finding out the results. That she had Polly supporting her was also a huge relief, and made her feel less distressed.

Though Veronica was unaware of all this, seeing Betty look a little happier warmed her heart. She was eager to encourage the good mood’s continuance.

“So,” she prompted, twisting the dial on her locker’s lock. “You guys must have had a good time last night, hmm?” The hum in her tone was obviously from some assumption or other, and Betty nodded.

“We sure did. Though Juggie and Cheryl did argue during half of the movie.”

Veronica made a face. “Sounds painful.”

Betty shook her head. “It was actually a lot of fun. We even got milkshakes.” She shut her locker door. “I fell asleep, though, at the start of the movie.”

Veronica’s brows arched. “That boring a film?”

“She was tired,” Archie interjected. Veronica gave him a look, part chastising and part confusion, before looking at Betty.

Betty shrugged her shoulders. “I didn’t get much sleep the other night, remember?” Veronica nodded, remembering Betty telling her so the other day. “I think I slept through half the movie before Cheryl woke me up.”

The conversation continued through Veronica collecting her books, shutting and locking her locker, and then the three friends moving onto Archie’s locker two classrooms down. Archie was respectfully silent as the girls talked, though his attention was partially on Betty, sneaking looks at Betty’s face as Betty tried to explain to Veronica that there was nothing to be concerned about. Betty often did that — as far back as Archie could remember. The blonde girl’s easy smile as she dismissed any questions towards her wellbeing, changing the topic swiftly and deftly so that no one pressed her further. 

Usually, it’d never been something to question, because Betty’s woes had been things like school, her family, one of their friends, or heartbreak (and more often than not, the cause of that heartbreak had included Archie and Veronica). They were things that Archie felt like he could fix, as best as he could. Things that changed on a dime from negative to positive, and made Archie feel good.

Betty always made Archie feel like he could do anything when he’d turn up at her side when she needed him. She’d smile at him like he made all her worries disappear, and her blue eyes would twinkle with delight. Archie knew it’d been arrogant of him to feel like that, and it felt wrong now to want that feeling again.

He’d wanted that feeling back all summer, when kisses and touches with Veronica had cooled following one week since Betty’s departure on the bus to Camp Rapids. When he got what he always wanted — alone time with Veronica Lodge all to himself — and then found that he needed something more. And it hadn’t been just him feeling that way — Veronica had wanted more as well, finding that the sparks between them were dimming without Betty there to help fan them in the competition for Archie’s heart.

The two of them had become so used to the back and forth of their triangle with Betty that Betty’s departure from the routine put a damper on the mood. True, that Archie usually put Betty aside when Veronica called up with a desire for a date, for a kiss, for anything, and Archie would leave Betty lonely. 

But there’d been a thrill in the game for Veronica — when she and Betty competed and Veronica came out on top. How she felt full of sparks when Archie kissed her and she knew that even when Archie had been kissing Betty, that he’d really have rather been kissing Veronica.

True, they hadn’t experienced the excitement they’d experienced in the beginning of the year, because Jason Blossom was suddenly showing up at Betty’s side, looking at Betty with such adoration. And Betty, sweet, sweet, wonderful Betty, had encouraged Jason’s attentions, in ways she’d not in past years. And it’d startled Archie, who had always counted on having Betty’s entire attention.

Archie didn’t usually have much competition for Betty’s affections, and Jason was always that on and off beau who flirted and took some of Betty’s time. But Archie hadn’t thought that Jason would ever really take Betty away — Jason had other girls, after all, and reputation as something of a brief fun fling before he forgot the girl’s name. And Betty wasn’t the kind of girl to fall for Jason’s come-ons, and had even rebuked Jason’s more suggestive offers in the past. So when Betty left that summer with Jason, it’d changed everything.

Jason had never been Archie’s favorite person — he’d actually been something of a bully when they all first met. Only Betty would see Jason’s soft side, but then, Betty tried to see the good in everyone.

Jason liked to flaunt his money and brag about his athletic accomplishments, usually by comparing them to Archie’s, mostly for the benefit of making Archie look bad in front of their classmates. But especially, to make Archie look bad in front of Betty. And Betty had let it go once for one week, when Archie told her to not get involved, but after one week of curbing her tongue, Betty had enough and rounded on Jason in the school halls, face red and teeth grit.

She’d given Jason the mother of all dressing downs, right in front of everyone, and though Cheryl had gotten involved and put a stop to it before things got anymore public, Jason had gotten the message. And the next day, he’d shown up at Archie’s locker with a lukewarm apology, earning a small amount of Betty’s appreciation, and even more of Archie’s ire. Because he’d been right there, standing next to Betty, when Jason gave Betty an apologetic smile, and Betty had blushed.

At first, Archie tried to tell himself he was just trying looking out for his friend’s wellbeing (Jason was, after all, considered a “player”), but Jughead had scoffed at the idea before telling Archie to “cut the crap”. Archie had to accept that he was jealous when he saw Betty with Jason, and that the times he really wanted Betty’s time were when she spent them on another boy.

But that summer, Jason and Betty weren’t around for Archie to see, and he didn’t feel as jealous as he’d felt before.

Suddenly, there was no stopping Archie and Veronica from being together. No Betty to tempt Archie away, and no schemes for Veronica to make to get back at Betty. And at first, Veronica had looked at this development positively. But with no one with which to compete, Veronica didn’t feel those sparks anymore when Archie kissed her. And when he showed up at her doorstep, Veronica didn’t feel victorious.

Because she hadn’t won anything and there was no competition.

She might have even started to resent Betty a little over the summer, but that’d all dropped to the floor when Jason was murdered and Betty needed Veronica more than ever. Archie had always admired the love Veronica had for Betty — how close the two girls were. One minute they were fighting, the next they were side by side, practically inseparable. Veronica had been at Betty’s side as soon as she was allowed, and Archie had actually been jealous of Veronica then. 

“Let me be there,” he’d begged.

“Archiekins,” Veronica had said with a ‘tsk’ in her tone. “She needs time.”

“It’s been over two weeks.”

“And she’s still not ready. Don’t push this, Archie. We’ll call you when we’re ready.”

Archie had wanted to be by Betty’s side to comfort her almost as much as Veronica had, but knew that Veronica would tell him when it was all right for him to join them. So he’d waited, anxious, yet patient, until Veronica finally sent him a text and then he was at the girls’ side as fast as he could get there. Because, no matter what occurred between the three of them, Archie, Betty, and Veronica — they were all friends.

Archie kept watching Betty as the girls came to their conversation’s conclusion, and when Betty looked at Archie, Archie looked into his locker. He knew Betty’s blue eyes were watching him, and he wanted to relish the feeling of having her attention, but it didn’t feel the same. Not like it used to feel.

It was awful to think so, and be disappointed by it, but Archie knew that if Jason were there, then it’d be no question of who actually had Betty’s attention. 

He hated that it made him feel jealous. 

 

Ms. Grundy pulled Betty aside before the start of class to ask her if she felt better than she had the other day. Betty smiled reassuringly and said she was was, and then thanked Ms. Grundy for her concern.

At age sixty-eight, Ms. Grundy was one of the oldest teachers at Riverdale High School. She had long white hair, kind looks, but piercing gray eyes that could see through any potential cheater’s lies and pinpoint which student needed some clarification. She’d been teaching for over twelve years now at the high school, and had been offered retirement last year. She’d turned it down, however, explaining that she’d rather be teaching young minds than sunning it up down in Florida with the other retirees.

Ms. Grundy was something of a favorite among most of the students at Riverdale High School, though she was also known as stern and no-nonsense, and had quite a few students glaring at her back half the day. Betty was definitely one of the more fond students, having even spent time after school in Ms. Grundy’s study hall as one of the tutors.

Though the other day Betty had been less than happy with Ms. Grundy, today she was appreciative of Ms. Grundy’s concern.

“Are you certain, Betty?” Ms. Grundy asked one last time.

Betty nodded. “Yes, Ms. Grundy. I really want to be in class today.”

Ms. Grundy looked at her with a bit of doubt in her eyes, but offered Betty a desk at the front of the class, which Betty accepted.

Class started relatively normal, with Ms. Grundy reviewing components she’d discussed the day before. She instructed the class to pull out their notes and then continued her lecture on sonnets. 

For fifteen minutes, the classroom was filled with the drone of Ms. Grundy’s voice, as well as the tick and tack of pencils on paper as the students took notes. She took a pause at the fifteen minute mark to inform her students that they’d be watching some clips from a video she’d chosen on the history of sonnets, looking quite excited as compared to her students. She ignored the few groans of dismay as she pulled down the projector screen and readied the projector.

When the lights flicked off, Betty felt her eyes start to droop. She focused her attention on the video as best as she could, though once again, her focus was only a portion of its usual caliber. Nevertheless, she managed to take enough notes to satisfy her perfectionist expectations.

At the video’s completion, Ms. Grundy asked her students to break into groups of two and share their notes from the video. Betty was about to turn around to ask the classmate behind her if they’d like to partner, when someone’s hand found their way to her shoulder. She turned around and found herself face to face with Josie McCoy, who looked awkward standing there next to Betty.

“Want to partner up?” Josie asked, sounding a little unsure of herself.

Taken aback by Josie’s presence, Betty nodded dumbly. “Sure.”

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to work with Josie (because the idea of working with Josie sat just fine with Betty!), but that’d Betty had never really gotten to know her classmate. 

All Betty really knew was that Josie was in a band called The Pussycats, she was best friends with Cheryl Blossom since they were in grade school, and that she had a passion for song writing. Josie had actually used a couple of her songs as writing projects in class, and even played them on presentation day with her own guitar instead of reciting them like everyone else in class.

Josie had oak brown skin, dark, cropped hair, and stunning brown eyes that were more onyx up close. She always dressed as if she was only one quick call away from playing another gig with her band, and was never without her big black boots.

Betty scooted her chair over to make room for Josie, but Josie simply pulled a chair around up against the desk, turning it around before straddling the seat. She put her paper down on the desk in front of her before she folded her arms on the seat’s back, looking at Betty like she was a research project.

It made Betty squirm a little, and she plucked at her paper, keeping her eyes down.

“Did you understand the differences between Petrarch’s sonnets and Shakespeare’s?” she asked, eyes skimming her notes.

“Yeah,” Josie responded. “But we both know that you and I are the top students in this class, so let’s skip the review.”

Betty looked at Josie, confused. “But that’s what we’re supposed to be doing.”

“Ms. Grundy’s pretty busy helping Johnny Flynn over there with his notes, so I think we can safely talk about something else.”

Betty glanced at the edge of the classroom where, indeed, Ms. Grundy was bent over a desk, pointing at a classmate’s paper meaningfully while giving him obvious direction in rewording his notes. Betty then looked back at Josie, finding that Josie was still studying her.

“You took Cheryl to the movies last night, right?” Josie asked.

Wondering at the change in topic, Betty nodded. “Yeah. The new Captain Khan movie at the drive-in.” After a few seconds, she tacked on, “Archie and Jughead were with us,” to provide further clarification.

Josie nodded, apparently satisfied with Betty’s answer. “That was pretty nice of you to invite Cheryl along.”

Betty smiled. “Just being a good friend, is all.”

Josie’s brow arched. “You two are now friends?”

Betty frowned, brow slightly furrowing. “Why wouldn’t we be?” She was getting a little annoyed, and it was showing in her tone.

Josie held up her hands in a placating gesture, shaking her head. “At ease, Cooper.” She was still smiling, and it only served to confuse Betty further. “Just making sure my girl’s all right.”

Betty quirked a brow. “But I’m not your girl.”

Josie rolled her eyes. “Not you, Cooper. I mean Cheryl!”

Betty’s cheeks flushed and she realized her mistake. “Oh.” 

Of course Josie had meant Cheryl — and why had Betty gotten defensive to begin with? While Josie was Cheryl’s friend, she’d never really approved of Cheryl’s bullying, and had even called Cheryl out a couple times when Cheryl got a little too nasty. 

Betty remembered one time when Cheryl had been having a heated argument with Veronica one day after school, during Veronica’s cheer practice. Betty, so used to be the peacekeeper, had been about to try to drag Veronica away, when Josie had injected herself between the two feuding cheerleaders. She’d called them “brats” and scowled at them both. She had then dragged Cheryl away by the arm, citing that she was “tired of this stupid shit”, and gave Cheryl a good lecture for about two minutes outside the gym’s front doors.

Betty had done her best to help Veronica cool off, but when Cheryl and Josie returned, Veronica had been prepared to continue the fight where it left off. But all it had taken was one glare from Josie and Veronica heeled. Betty remembered watching, stunned, as Veronica and Cheryl apologized to one another, exchanged brief forgiveness, and then returned to cheer practice. She’d wanted to thank Josie for stopping the fight, but Josie had disappeared, apparently needing her own time to cool down.

“I’m sorry,” Betty apologized, ashamed of herself.

Josie shook her head. “It’s fine, Cooper.” She gave Betty an understanding smile. “You taking Cheryl out last night actually did her a world of good.” Her eyes were warm. “For first time in a while, I saw her in a genuinely good mood today.”

Betty felt shy under the hidden gratitude. “I’m glad she had a good time.”

“You talked to her about Jason, right?”

Betty frowned, but nodded.

Josie looked at Betty with appreciation. “She really needed that, Cooper. She’s been bottling up everything since Jason died.”

“I can understand that.”

“I’m actually pretty jealous of you.”

“What?” Betty stared at Josie. “Why?”

Josie looked down at her paper before looking back into Betty’s eyes. “Because you were able to help her open up, whereas I couldn’t.” A hopeful light came into Josie’s eyes. “I’d love it if you could do that again sometime.”

“Sure,” Betty agreed. “All she has to do is call.”

Josie shook her head. “No, no. Cher’s not good with reaching out to people. You’ll have to do the calling.” Her eyes then narrowed in warning. “And don’t tell her that I talked to you about this, either.”

Betty wasn’t sure how well that would go, but she still agreed. “I’ll do my best.”

“Thanks, Cooper,” Josie said honestly. She took her paper in hand and got up out of her seat, just as Betty realized that class was about to end. Betty was about to get up from her seat as well, when Josie stopped her.

“Jason’s funeral is finally getting planned,” she informed the blonde, and Betty froze in place. “I don’t know if you’re going to be a part of it, but you and Cheryl are going to need each other to get through this.” She then left, back to her regular seat to pack-up, leaving Betty still standing at her desk.

 

After Ms. Grundy’s class was Betty’s free period, and she decided to distract herself from thinking about Jason’s funeral by focus on something else. And that was her being pregnant with Jason’s baby (somehow, it was less painful to think about).

She found a nice corner in the back of the library to dump her things before browsing the reference shelves, pulling out over ten books on human development. She spent a good twenty minutes leafing through the texts, alternating in reading passages on pregnancy and making faces at the pictures on the pages. She ended up learning more than she wanted to know about ‘mucus membrane’, and after finding another picture of what looked to be a woman giving birth, she shut the books and returned them to their shelves.

“That was fun,” she wryly told herself, deciding that she’d rather just sulk in the corner, curled up into a ball with her head down. The back of the library was pretty vacant at this time of the day, so she wasn’t worried about anyone stumbling upon her and possibly interrupting her Very Important Sulking Time.

Now with nothing to distract her, she thought about Jason’s funeral. She didn’t know how to feel about it — obviously still devastated, but maybe a little relieved? Jason’s body had been kept by forensics for over a month, unusual even for the common murder investigation. She should be relieved that Jason would finally be put to rest properly, and of course the Blossoms must be relieved as well.

But there was definitely something bittersweet about it (as if wasn’t bitter enough). 

Betty had hoped that Jason’s murderer would have been found by now. Two months since the murder, she suspected the trail was cold, and it hadn’t even been much of a trail from the start. The police only had Jason’s body to go by, as well as Betty’s testimony. She remembered the police interviewing for two days, having her recount everything and describe every little detail she could possibly remember.

It hadn’t really done Betty’s sanity any good to replay the scene over and over in her head, but she’d done it because she wanted to help the police. She even walked the detective on the case through the woods, showing the detective how Betty and Jason had been walking, what direction, and what they were doing (though she kept out the more intimate details). The detective had thanked Betty, smiled, and given Betty her condolences, but it’d been hollow to Betty’s ears.

She must have spent over twenty hours with police, before one of the officers noticed the negative effect it had on Betty, and finally turned Betty over to her parents. They’d been waiting a full day since they first got the call from the police, and had been frustrated when the police held them back, telling them that Betty was still needed. So when Betty was finally returned, the Coopers didn’t waste any time in stowing Betty’s things in the back of their car and getting out of the camp as fast as their car could take them with respect to the speed limit.

Betty remembered her mother having sat on the backseat with Betty, practically cradling her youngest child in her arms, carding a hand soothingly through Betty’s hair and telling her that Chic would get on the case and find whoever “hurt” Jason. She’d said it with the same tone that she’d used when Betty was little and had lost her favorite toy rabbit, and her mother had rubbed her back and consoled Betty’s tears. She’d said that Chic would find Betty’s rabbit, and that time, Alice had been right.

Because Chic could solve the mystery. Chic could solve ANY mystery.

But, as it turned out, Chic could not solve THIS mystery.

Chic Cooper, Betty’s older brother, and the eldest Cooper child, was an agent of sorts for the government. He operated several towns over, closer to the bigger cities, working for some sort of FBI team that investigated the more grisly crime scenes. Chic never said what he really did at his job, but he’d admitted to Betty two years ago that he was a criminal investigator. He’d then told Betty that he couldn’t say much more, because he didn’t want to compromise his work.

Which had been exactly what kept Chic from racing like a bullet to his family’s side.

Because he was Betty’s brother, his bosses had kept him back from joining the investigation into Jason’s murder, and even made Chic wait to return home, citing that it might make Betty a suspect. 

Chic must have called Betty over thirty times, telling her how sorry he was that he couldn’t be there and that he’d be home as soon as his asshole bosses (his words) finally pulled the sticks out of their asses (again, his words) and let Chic see his family. While Betty had dully said, “fine,” and Betty’s parents had been accepting of the situation, Polly had personally called Chic back to have a spectacular screaming match.

Polly had never really been happy with Chic’s choice of career, especially since it kept Chic from his family and forced Chic to keep aspects of his life unknown. Chic had tried countless times to explain to Polly that he was just “doing his job”, but Polly had refused to listen. She just didn’t see how Chic could put his job above his own little sister, and boy, had that really gotten under Chic’s skin. 

Betty had heard even through the second flooring as Polly and Chic screeched back and forth, until Mrs. Cooper had enough and took the phone away.

“Mom, he’s being unreasonable!”

“I don’t care, Polly! Now is not the time for this!”

“You’re defending him again!”

“Polly, that’s enough!”

Betty hadn’t heard from Chic since then, and when she’d wanted to call him, Mrs. Cooper had told Betty to wait. And though it had frustrated Betty, she’d agreed.

A part of Betty had hoped that Chic would join the investigation and find Jason’s killer (as if he could just make everything better like he had when Betty was a kid) but after five weeks passed with no contact, Betty gave up. And that’d lead her to ruminate over the aspects of Jason’s murder on her own. It was part of what had contributed to the longer length of her dispassionate mood.

The reminder that someone had purposely killed Jason in cold blood, and that same someone was still out there, alive.

Thinking about it made Betty’s blood boil, and she grit her teeth. Because, here she was, pregnant with Jason’s baby, and Jason’s murderer was still out there, having gotten away with taking Jason’s life. And for WHAT? What could Jason have possibly done to make someone want to shoot him? What could Jason have done to make someone angry enough to use a gun to end Jason’s life?

Sure, Jason had sometimes been a jerk to people, but never to the point to that someone would murder him. Jason had been well liked by a good portion of the school (mostly for his athletic skills and his general charm), and aside from the few people who’d rather kick Jason’s ass, there’d been no danger of being murdered.

The only reason Betty could deduce as to why Jason had been targeted, was because he was the son of Cliff Blossom, an incredibly wealthy man and business tycoon. And it made sense — because Mr. Blossom was a man with a good deal of power, and Jason had been Mr. Blossom’s heir (even though Jason had wanted nothing to do with the family business). Mr. Blossom had bene pretty obvious about his desire for Jason to follow in his footsteps, and Betty remembered a number of times when Jason would come fresh from an argument with his father, complaining about the man’s stubbornness and refusal to listen to what Jason wanted.

To everyone else, it was practically expected that Jason would take over the family business, and though Jason had expressed his disdain at the assumption, many people had refused to think anything else.

Could someone have murdered Jason to get to Jason’s father?

Betty thought about this as she sulked in her little corner in the library. And as the minutes ticked by, closer and closer to the end of Betty’s free period, Betty began to grow a new resolve.

She needed to find out who had murdered Jason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I haven't yet started writing the next chapter, but I've got some ideas bouncing around in my head and I'll try to get the next chapter out by Sunday at the earliest.
> 
> Thank you again for reading, and sorry if I'm not more talkative -- it's late here and I need to head off to bed. But I couldn't do that without posting this chapter, so pardon any errors. Like always, I'll come back here and there to correct them as we go forward.
> 
> Thank you!


	4. Getting Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to get this chapter out before midnight so I could watched the new John Oliver's LAST WEEK TONIGHT episode on HBO.
> 
> This chapter is heavy with Betty and Jason sweetness, as well as some feelings between Archie and Betty. While I do love my Jason and Betty, I hope you stay around for Archie and Betty's relationship forming, as I've already got some ideas written down for how it'll pan out.
> 
> Please enjoy!

CHAPTER FOUR:

As Friday approached, Betty’s stamina grew shorter and shorter. She found herself in constant danger of nodding off. She started taking one hour naps after school before tackling her schoolwork, finding that she was more awake afterwards.

She was also much more aware of the comings and goings of in the Cooper household. For instance, she learned that her father had taken up boxing at the local gym on Tuesdays and Thursdays, while her mother had joined a knitting club that met each Monday and Friday. Because her parents usually attended their hobbies while Betty was at school, it made sense that it had slipped Betty’s notice.

Polly even said that she’d volunteered several times to keep watch of Betty when Betty had stayed home from school. Polly also noticed that Betty’s face had started to crumble, and immediately put a stop to any of Betty’s self-loathing.

“Don’t give me that face. They found their outlets for relaxing, Bets. They’re fine.”

Despite Polly’s assurance, Betty still worried. She tried to become more talkative around her parents, forcing herself to wake earlier than she usually did. The drawback of that was that Betty lost more time for sleep, so her after school naps grew from one hour to two hours. And then on Thursday, she slept over four hours, and was practically a zombie all day. It only served to further worry Betty’s parents.

They suggested maybe scheduling a doctor’s appointment for Betty. Of course, Betty had gone into a panic, but Polly had convinced their parents that all Betty needed was some sisterly bonding. So Betty and Polly’s after school trip to the Planned Parenthood clinic turned into a weekend getaway.

“Probably for the best,” Polly had said. “No matter what you find out at the clinic, you really do need some downtime. Time to cut loose and be a little wild.”

Betty eyed her sister suspiciously. “We are not doing anything illegal, Polly.”

Polly sniffed. “Spoilsport.”

Veronica had been enthusiastic when Betty informed her about her weekend plans.

“That sounds perfect! Oh! Where are you two going?”

“Um, Greendale, I think.” That had been the address listed for the clinic.

Veronica made a face. “That’s not a very exciting place to visit. Daddykins had a meeting there once and he said it was nothing but pleasantville.”

“I think I am due for some pleasantville, Ron.” Betty had done some research on the town and found that it hosted a number of antique stores and little cafes. Not to mention, the old bookstores, and Polly had gushed about finding some new reads for her ever growing book collection.

Veronica still had her doubts, but she wished Betty and ‘Fun Fun Fun Weekend Getaway’, and made Betty promise to make Veronica her very first call if she somehow ended up in a jail cell.

“You never know with Polly,” Veronica reminded Betty. “You Coopers may be pretty straight laced most of the time, but when your wild sides get out, all bets are off.”

Betty thought about her summer with Jason at Camp Rapids and couldn’t help but agree. She’d done many things that summer that Veronica would definitely categorize under ‘wild’.

Betty and Polly decided to take their dad’s old van for the weekend, and early Friday morning, Polly loaded up the back space with some snacks, bottled waters, as well as some blankets and a couple pillows. Mrs. Cooper gave her daughters an extra emergency kit, as well as several rounds of advice about not stopping on empty highways and avoiding crazy things hitchhikers.

“Mom, please,” Polly pleaded. “It’s just Greendale. We’ll only be an hour drive away if traffic isn’t bad. And we’ll call you when we get there.”

“And at rest stops,” Alice reminded her daughter. “I want to know where you are at all times.” Her eyes went purposefully to Betty, who had been in the middle of finishing her breakfast of French toast. Polly followed her mother’s line of sight and nodded her head, understanding what had gone unsaid.

Because Polly and Betty were going right from Betty’s school to Greendale, the two girls endured their parents fretting and well wishing before Betty was picked up for school by Veronica. While Betty went to school, Polly took the van to get some gas and extra mechanical supplies, just in case they got a flat tire or had to change out some nuts and bolts (Polly was always big on being prepared for those types of things).

At school, her friends seemed to be all aware of Betty’s plans (Betty blamed Veronica’s mass group texting habit) and began making suggestions of things she should do in Greendale. The most of the suggestions amounted to Betty doing something a little out of her comfort zone, while one suggestion simply involved eating all the food she could possibly get her hands on (that was Jughead’s advice, bless him). 

“I hear their restaurants are simply sublime,” Jughead said with a tone of awe. 

Reggie rolled his eyes. “It’s a different town, Jug, not a different state.”

“Oh no,” Archie said, knowing what was coming.

Jughead shot Reggie a dark look. “I know my food. Don’t mock me.”

Reggie’s eyes narrowed. “Because that’ll ever happen?”

Veronica elbowed Reggie, shooting him a glare. “No fighting at the lunch table,” she warned.

Next to Veronica, Archie hid a smile. “I’m sure Betty will eat all the Exotic Food she can get, Jug.” He turned to Betty, dapple eyes warm. “Just make sure to come back, okay? Greendale might seem nice, but Riverdale is where it’s at.”

Chuck Clayton, one of Archie’s friends from Art Class, groaned. “Did he just try to be ‘hip’?”

Chuck’s girlfriend. Nancy Woods, sighed. “Did you just try to use the word ‘hip’?”

Chuck and Nancy were both Black, dark haired, and the longest standing couple of Betty’s friends. They had met in the first year of high school, when Chuck had first been getting into cartooning and Nancy had just moved to Riverdale from Lancing, Michigan. Because Chuck had started out in sports at a young age, many people had assumed (and maybe even hoped) that Chuck would continue through high school, but by freshman year, Chuck had tired of athletics, instead wanting to explore cartooning. 

Not many people had been supportive, and Chuck’s father, the school’s rotating sports coach, had been quite put out. However, Nancy had become Chuck’s friend by then, and had put her foot down on the matter. Needless to say, no one had excited sweet Nancy Woods to become so fiery and passionate, but then, love brought out the best in people.

“It’s still a word, Nance,” Chuck explained, giving his girlfriend a goofy smile.

Nancy wasn’t convinced, but shook her head and smiled back at Chuck, Betty watching in absolute envy of the chemistry between the two. If she had to pick the ideal couple of her group, Chuck and Nancy would win hands down. Where Chuck was silly and gregarious and so friendly to almost everyone, Nancy was a little reserved, enjoying some time to herself and appreciating a small group of friends.

Nancy turned to Betty. “So if you and Polly are going out of town, does this mean I won’t have my usual Soapy-Buddy for watching ‘The Young and the Arrested’ this Saturday?”

Ever since Betty first met Nancy in freshman year, when Betty had been a School Ambassador (a puffed up title for basically being a tour guide for new students coming into Riverdale), Betty and Nancy had shared a love of soap operas. While the programs were, of course, highly ridiculous and full of convoluted plots, the two girls found a kinship in their shared appreciation of the drama.

Every Saturday night, they usually met to watch the latest episode of whatever soap opera they’d recently started watching (she changed programs constantly depending on which soap was on hiatus or which was waiting for the next season). They called themselves ‘Soapy-Buddies’, and even had t-shirts made once to make it official, and they’d actually planned to be wearing the shirts for the seasonal premieres. One of their more favored soaps from last spring, ‘The Young and the Arrested’, was finally returning for a new season, and before Betty had gone to camp, she and Nancy had started planning out how their Soapy-Buddy premiere night would go (they would happily admit to fanaticism if anyone asked).

Betty made an apologetic face. “I’m sorry, Nancy. You could record it and we could watch it together when I get back?”

Nancy smiled, relieved. “I’ll hold you to it, Cooper.”

“I don’t get your obsession with those shows,” Reggie commented, making a face.

Jughead arched a brow at his friend. “This from the guy who tunes in regularly for the Vietnamese soaps?”

Reggie pointed a finger, offended. “Hey. Those are classics.”

“That only you can understand.”

“It’s my heritage!”

While Reggie and Jughead squabbled (it always amused Betty how much the two boys sounded like an old married couple), Betty continued eating her lunch of chicken salad stuffed pita bread that her mother had made for her lunch. The portion size was a little larger than she was used to, but she was not surprised when she actually finished one sandwich and began devouring the other. She HAD been neglecting her food intake since she came back from camp. But then, it could also be because she was pregnant, and this was the prelude to a tremendous appetite.

She didn’t ponder on that thought much longer because she saw Cheryl Blossom walking towards her, and Betty looked up.

“Betty,” Cheryl said with a small smile. She stood next to Betty’s seat at the end of the table. “Could I talk to you for a minute?” She glanced up at the rest of the table, still smiling, before going back to Betty. “In private?”

All conversation at the table had stopped, and though most of the group wasn’t looking at Cheryl and Betty, it was obvious that they were only pretending not to listen while nonchalantly poking their forks at their food. So Betty could understand Cheryl’s hesitance. She gave her new friend a smile of understanding, and nodded.

“Sure. Um, I’ll be right back, guys.” She gave her a friends a little wave before following Cheryl out of the lunchroom, stopping when Cheryl came to a halt by the water fountain.

Cheryl clasped her hands together and cleared her throat. “I just wanted to tell you that Daddy and I have started planning Jason’s funeral.”

Betty had already heard about the funeral planning from Josie a couple days ago, so she wasn’t surprised. 

“Oh.” She tried to smile for Cheryl. She knew that Cheryl had been wanting to get Jason’s funeral underway since last month.

“That’s great, Cheryl.” She then wanted to smack herself, because she wasn’t sure if it’d been all right to use the word ‘great’ in reference to planning Jason’s funeral.

But Cheryl didn’t seem to have noticed, and just nodded, wringing her fingers together, and looking down at them in a slightly nervous manner. She seemed to be agonizing over something in her head, until she finally lifted her chin and said, “Daddy and I want you to be part of the funeral.”

“What?” Betty’s eyes widened and she felt her stomach drop.

“You were important to Jason, Betty. You deserve the chance to say something.”

Betty didn’t know how to respond. While she felt touched that Cheryl and her father would want her to be in Jason’s funeral, the thought of standing up beside the Blossoms at a podium and telling everyone in attendance what Jason meant to her scared Betty. Because what if she didn’t write the best speech, or she started getting sick again right up on stage?

“I’d just mess up, Cheryl,” Betty tried to explain, but Cheryl shook her head and took Betty’s hands, squeezing them reassuringly.

“You’ll do great. I can help you write and practice what you want to say and anything else you need.” Cheryl’s piercing green eyes stared deep into Betty’s eyes of liquid blue. “For Jason, Betty.”

Betty felt powerless to say anything to Cheryl, except a quiet answer of ‘okay’.

 

After her class got out, Betty stopped by her locker to stow away her textbooks, saying goodbye to Veronica, who had to hurry home to help her mother sort out some old clothes to giveaway for charity. She wished Betty a good weekend before leaving Betty alone at her locker, the school halls continuing to empty.

It only took Betty a minute to put away her text books, and shut her locker door, and in that minute, Archie Andrews had snuck up next to Betty, giving her a fright.

“Archie!” she yelped. This time, she swatted him for the scare.

“Sorry, Bets,” Archie apologized, though there was a gleam of intent in his bright eyes that told Betty that Archie wasn’t at all sorry. But Betty was much too tired to stay mad at Archie (it was impossible to stay mad at Archie — even when Archie broke her heart, Betty never could stay mad with those dappled eyes pleading at her so earnestly) and sighed, resigned.

“It’s fine.” She shifted her backpack’s strap on her shoulder before turning to go.

“Mind if I walk you out,” Archie asked, stopping Betty in her tracks. He was smiling sweetly, and ducking his head a touch, almost shyly. It made Betty’s heartstrings twist without her permission.

Feeling a little gooey inside, Betty replied, “I don’t mind,” and started to walk with Archie down the halls. As they walked, Betty was very much aware of how close Archie was walking next to her. His hands were stuffed in his sweater’s front pockets and he was looking straight ahead, as if he hadn’t a care in the world except to be right there by Betty’s side. It made Betty feel warm inside, and maybe a little sweet. But it wasn’t like how it used to feel.

They pushed open the doors at the front of the school, stepping out into the sunshine, with clouds overhanging in the blue sky. It was definitely going to start raining over the weekend, and Betty hoped that Polly had packed an umbrella.

Archie glanced at Betty before looking forward. “Are you and Polly going straight to Greendale, or are you going to make stops along the way?”

“We’ll probably make some stops,” Betty opined. “There’s supposed to be some diners along the way, so we’ll take a pause to grab a burger or something.”

Archie nodded. “Sounds cool.”

They stopped walking at the sidewalk’s curb, the parking lot stretching beyond the paved cement. Betty spotted Polly’s van sitting in a parking spot not much further down, with Polly at the wheel, reading one of her trashy romance novels while she waited.

Betty was about to step off the curb when Archie put a hand on Betty’s shoulder, stopping her. “Betty…” he started to say, and Betty turned to face him, eyebrows arched. 

Suddenly, Archie’s throat felt dry.

“…I’m here if you need me…okay?”

Betty was quiet for a moment, before her face broke into a big smile.

“I know, Archie,” she said. Buoyed by her good mood, she got close to Archie and placed a small peck on his cheek. Archie was stock still when Betty’s lips touched his skin, and he almost missed Betty’s “goodbye” before she turned to the parking lot and started walking.

Polly was watching out the windows when Betty got to the van, sliding her backpack off her shoulder. Polly turned her head when Betty opened the door, and gave her little sister a wave.

“Saying goodbye to Archie for the weekend?” she asked.

“More or less,” Betty answered, hopping into the van’s passenger seat. She put her backpack down at her feet. “I still don’t know how I feel about him.”

Polly looked at her sister for a couple seconds, trying to puzzle something out in her mind, before she shook her head and turned to look out the front window. “I still don’t understand what you see in him,” she remarked, starting the car.

Betty wrinkled her nose. “You’d have to have been there, Pol.” She buckled herself in and sat back in her seat, closing her eyes. “Even I don’t quite understand it.”

Polly put the van in drive and began driving out of the parking lot, and from thereon, there was no more talk of Archie Andrews, who still stood at the curb, eyes wide, cheeks pink, eyes following Betty and Polly’s van as it drove to the intersection at the top of the parking lot, and then turned out onto the street.

 

Betty ended up falling asleep as soon as van passed the WELCOME TO RIVERDALE sign at the entrance to the town. Polly was very encouraging of Betty taking a nap, and told Betty that she would wake her up when they reached the Planned Parenthood clinic, but Betty wanted to stay awake so as to provide Polly with company. But she couldn’t deny the merit of some rest, and decided to close her eyes for a couple minutes for a short nap.

However, that short nap turned out to last the full hour drive to Greendale, because when Betty woke up, she and Polly were parked right outside the Planned Parenthood clinic.

Betty immediately sat up in her seat. “We’re already here?” She looked around.

Polly was leaning back in her seat, having put up the car’s brake and turned off the engine. “You slept the entire drive.” She had her book from earlier back in her hands and it looked like she’d been in the middle of reading it when Betty woke up.

“How long since we arrived here?” Betty felt ashamed of herself for letting Polly drive in utter silence.

“About twenty minutes,” Polly estimated. “Don’t worry about it, Bets. You were really tired, and it’s good you got some extra sleep. It means that you’ll be awake to ask the doctor all your questions.”

Betty looked up at the entrance to the building, feeling nervous. “Oh good.” She continued to stare out the window.

Polly frowned, noticing Betty’s discomfort. “Do you want me to come in with you?”

Betty shook her head and unclipped her seatbelt. “No, but thank you. I think I need to do this myself.” She reached over to her right side and opened the car door. “I might be a while.”

Polly shrugged her shoulders. “So long as you get all the information you need. I’m willing to come back here tomorrow if need be.”

Betty smiled softly. “Thanks, Pol.”

Polly nodded, watching Betty get out of the car, before something of clarity crossed her features. “Wait,” she said, holding up a finger. She set her book down in her lap and reached down beside her seat to pull out her purse and extracted a hundred dollar bill, handing it over to Betty.

“Just in case,” Polly explained.

Betty accepted the money, sticking it in her pants pocket. “I’ll pay you back,” she promised her sister, but Polly shook her head.

“It’s yours, Bets. Now, go ahead.” She gestured to the clinic doors, and Betty’s stomach was in knots.

“Right.” She shut the car door, pocketed the hundred dollar bill, and then started walking up to the clinic doors. She usually didn’t even feel this nervous before a math test.

Betty spent two hours in the clinic, the staff being very kind and understanding, and answering all of Betty’s questions. They even gave her over a dozen pamphlets, some contact cards in case she needed to return, and a list of books she could read if she wanted more information. There was also some written instructions for what she needed to do in the future in regards to her and her baby’s health.

The doctor who’d seen Betty had performed an ultrasound, and asked Betty if she wanted to see it, and though she was still quibbling over whether or not to, Betty said “yes”. 

“All right. Here we go,” the doctor had said.

In the instant that the image popped up onto the screen on the wall, Betty had been mesmerized.

“Can you tell which is your baby?” the doctor asked.

Betty nodded. “When my friend’s mother had been pregnant with his little sister, she’d show us the ultrasounds. I think I’ve got a pretty good idea.”

Jughead had been a sophomore when his mother told him that he’d be having a little sister. Jughead had been ecstatic, of course, and wanted to know everything. Mrs. Jones had been so overwhelmed with happiness at her son’s enthusiasm that she agreed to show Jughead and his friends the ultrasounds. Betty remembered how Jughead had told her and their friends that the baby was still “just a little jellybean”, but how happy he’d been. 

Mrs. Jones kept her son up to date with each ultrasound, and Jughead had relayed each one to the group, pointing out “the little jellybean”, smiling so happily and proclaiming that he’d be the “best big brother ever”. He even said he’d let his little sister (by then, the baby’s gender had been made clear) eat off his plate, and for Jughead, that was a big deal.

Betty remembered feeling so excited for Mr. and Mrs. Jones and Jughead and their “little jellybean” (that’s what Jughead always called the baby), and the day that Mrs. Jones had the baby, she and her friends had been sitting on edge, waiting for the text from Jughead to say his little sister had been born. Betty had ended up falling asleep after staying up three hours past her usual bedtime, but had been woken up at two in the morning to a picture text of Jughead holding his baby sister.

“SAY HI TO JELLYBEAN,” the text attached to the photo had said. And within five minutes, the gang’s group chat was filling with excited teenagers congratulating the Jones’ family and cooing over the baby.

Jellybean (the name had stuck) Jones was now two years old, and Betty had spent countless times with the precocious tot. She was usually volunteering to be Jellybean’s babysitter every so often when Jughead was hanging out with Archie.

Everyone just adored Jellybean, and as Betty looked at the ultrasound of her baby, she realized that she might have her own “little jellybean”. But she was interrupted from her ruminating by the doctor’s voice, taking back Betty’s attention.

The doctor informed the teenager that she was about a little over two months pregnant, and asked Betty to tell her about her health the past two months. She immediately expressed concern when Betty had told her that she hadn’t really been taking very good care of her body in that time. She asked Betty to give her a brief rundown of her eating habits and her home life, and had been very concerned when Betty mentioned that she’d gotten violently sick at school.

Betty’s stomach had been in knots when she entered the clinic, and now, it was twisting into the type of knots that the Boy Scouts prided themselves in knowing. “Do you think it hurt the baby?” she asked.

The doctor looked over the notes she’d taken so far for Betty. “You haven’t experienced any miscarriage, so it could have just been your morning sickness reacting to your health at the time.” She looked up. “If it’d been something truly terrible, you might have been in danger of a miscarriage.”

Betty’s hands went to her stomach, her face turning a shade of green.

“Miscarriage?”

The doctor nodded. “You didn’t miscarry, though, so that tells me that you can still carry the baby to full term.”

Relief flooded through Betty’s veins. “Really?”

The doctor nodded. “If that’s what you choose to do. You could also still get an abortion.” Betty frowned, and the doctor smiled softly. “It’s totally up to you, dear.”

Hands still on her belly, Betty looked down, and came to a decision. “No, I want to keep the baby.” She looked back up at the doctor. “What do I need to do to keep the baby healthy?”

The doctor looked down at her clipboard, scanning her notes. 

“You’ll just have to work on improving your health. Eating more, sleeping more. Prenatal vitamins are also a must. We can recommend you some that you can find in Greendale’s Rite Work’s pharmacy. Get you started right away.”

She shuffled her papers, arranging them in a specific order. “I’ll be sending you home with everything I’ve written down so far, so you can keep better track of how you’re doing, but I strongly recommend that you get in contact with an obstetrician back home so they can keep an eye on your progress.”

Betty nodded, and though she understood that meant having to tell her parents and potentially revealing her pregnancy to Riverdale, she felt a new determination.

“Can I have a copy of my ultrasound?” she asked the doctor.

“Certainly. We can send you a digital copy right now if you give me a valid e-mail address. I can also print a copy it and send you home with that as well. Might be a good idea to take it with you if you do decide to see an obstetrician.”

Betty agreed to both, and when she was paying her bill at the clinic’s front counter, the doctor had a manilla envelope to give to Betty, as well as confirmation that she had just sent Betty the ultrasound files. A quick check on her phone told Betty that she’d indeed received the message, and she thanked the doctor.

“If you ever feel that you need to come here again, please do so,” the doctor closed. “I wish you the best of health, dear.”

 

Four hours later, Betty and Polly were seated in a little pizzeria in Greendale’s proper, having spent the last couple hours walking around the town and looking into bookshops. They must have spent over forty minutes in each bookstore, and amassed about a twelve inch stack of new books each, but while Polly’s stack was full of romances and some nonfiction, Betty’s were all from the list of books that the doctor at Planned Parenthood had recommended.

The cashiers had all looked like they wanted to comment on Betty’s selections, but fortunately kept their mouths closed, ringing up Betty’s items and sending her on her way. Polly had kept an eye on her sister at the counters, standing by just in case she needed to intervene on Betty’s behalf.

Betty had gotten pretty hungry about thirty minutes after the last shop they’d visited, and Polly had recommended they start in on dinner. They did some research on Greendale’s restaurants on Polly’s phone and decided that a pizzeria sounded best, and had arrived to a full parking lot, and the sight of dozens of teenagers enjoying their Friday night. They were lucky enough to get a table in the back of the restaurant, a little secluded from the rabble up front.

They waited for the waiter to take their orders before starting to talk.

“Do you think you could tell Mom and Dad when we get home?” Polly asked, referring to the baby.

When Betty had gotten back into the van outside Planned Parenthood, she’d relayed everything the doctor had told her to Polly, and then handed Polly the manilla envelope. Polly had held the envelope for a good forty seconds, doing nothing, before Betty gave Polly explicit permission to see the envelope’s contents.

Polly’s throat had tightened a little when she saw the first photo from the ultrasound, and when she spoke, her voice had been a little wet. “I guess you made your decision,” she said, a little above a whisper.

Betty nodded, biting her lower lip. “I have.”

Right away, Polly had been supportive, recommending that they go over the doctor’s notes and then take a quick drive to Greendale’s Rite Work’s pharmacy to purchase the vitamins the doctor had listed. It only took twenty minutes for the sisters to find everything they needed (and a little more) at the pharmacy, before stowing the goods under the van’s passenger seat. Following that, it took only two minutes for Polly to spot a bookstore across the street.

“I’ll tell them,” Betty told her sister. “But…just not yet.”

Polly arched a brow at Betty’s hesitance. “You’re going to start showing soon,” she reminded Betty.

Betty gave her sister an annoyed look. “I know, Polly.” Her shoulders sunk and the anger went out of her body. There was no point in arguing with Polly when Betty knew her sister was right.

“I’ll tell them when we get back home,” Betty decided, hanging her head.

She didn’t have much longer to sulk, however, as the waiter returned with the girls’ food. 

Betty’s eyes stared hungrily at the large pizza she and Polly had agreed to share, and as soon as its tray was set down on the table, she reached for a slice, mood brightening almost instantly. Polly watched, somewhat amused, and waited for Betty to pick her four slices before taking a slice for herself.

“So I guess you’ll be eating for two now?” she teased.

Betty stopped her consumption of her second slice of pizza to glare at her sister. She chewed what was in her mouth, swallowed, and then stuck her tongue at her sister. Polly started laughing, shoulders shaking.

“Was that a yes?” she quipped, before starting in on her pizza slice.

Their dinner continued with a heavy presence of banter as the sisters talked, Polly making little teases and Betty reacting, and were finished with the pizza not ten minutes later. Betty had eaten the most slices, so she bullied Polly into letting her pay for the dinner, with Polly offering to pay for dessert. Betty agreed on the condition that they share it, and when the waiter returned to take their empty pizza tray, the girls ordered one large Cocoa Mudslide Supreme Mountain Cake with a side of ice cream, which they devoured in under ten minutes.

After paying their bill and thanking the waiter with a ten dollar tip, the two girls got back into their van, deciding that they should look for a motel to stay the night. As they drove, it began to rain, lightly at first, but then, grew heavy within minutes.

It only took them seven minutes to find a motel at the edge of town. It offered a decent night rate and a quick check on Betty’s phone told the girls that it had a decent four star rating. That didn’t convince Betty to not check every inch of the room they were given, though, and after spending five minutes scrutinizing every corner, Betty decided it was doable.

Polly had rolled her eyes at her sister’s antics. “You sure you don’t need one of those crime scene flashlights?”

Betty made a face. “You can never be too cautious about cleanliness, Pol.”

“More like obsessive,” Polly remarked. She threw her overnight back onto one of the two beds and began unpacking.

While Polly unpacked her things, Betty took a quick shower, turning the hot water up a little higher than she allowed herself at home. The hot water felt amazing on her skin, and lulled Betty into a cozy, comfortable state. She closed her eyes and tipped her head back to let the spray wash over her face, taking away any makeup she’d worn and making her skin tingle pleasantly.

Polly’s fist knocking at the door startled Betty into opening her eyes.

“Did you fall asleep in there?” Polly asked through the door.

Betty looked down at her feet and realized that her skin was considerably flushed, the hot water still shooting out of the shower head. She realized that she must have fallen asleep standing up.

Betty pushed at the shower curtain to poke her head out into the bathroom, looking around. The mirror was properly fogged up with steam, and the walls were starting to look a little wet. Betty’s extended shower time had turned the small motel bathroom into a sauna, and Betty grimaced at the sight.

“I think I did,” she shouted to Polly. “Sorry!”

Polly obviously was concerned about her sister’s wellbeing, but she must have figured out that Betty was already stressed enough, because she attempted to lighten the mood.

“You’re probably a prune by now!” she joked.

Betty wrinkled her nose, wanting to give a rebuttal, but she realized that she needed to finish her shower right away. “Give me five minutes and I’ll be right out!” she relayed, and leaned a little over to the bathroom light switches to switch on the bathroom’s fan.

It took Betty a little under five minutes to wash her hair and body, and once she was all toweled and her hair was turban’d, she left the bathroom. She came face to face with Polly outside, her big sister leaning back against the wall and holding a small bag of her toiletries.

She looked Betty up and then down to be sure her sister was all right, before looking over Betty’s shoulder into the bathroom. She grimaced.

“I think I can wait until morning to shower,” she decided.

If Betty wasn’t already flushed from the heat of her shower, she would have blushed red. “I’m sorry,” she apologized. But Polly shook her head and said they should just head straight to bed.

Because Betty’s little shower doze had tilted Betty’s sleep clock, Polly fell asleep first, burrowing down under her bed’s comforter. Betty laid back against the pillows in the dark, staring at the room’s ceiling. After spending ten full minutes more staring in the dark, Betty reached over to the nightstand to turn on the lamp attached to the wall. It was bright enough that it flooded a small portion of Betty’s side of the room in light, while keeping Polly’s side of the room dark.

Betty pushed the comforter off her and crawled to the bed’s end, looking down at where she’d leaned her overnight bag and backpack up against one of the bed’s posts. She rummaged around in her pack for less than a minute before procuring a notebook, with a pen stuck in its spiral.

Since Tuesday, Betty had started to organize the facts of Jason’s murder, as well as postulate potential suspects and different motives Jason’s murdered must have had. It was a grim habit, to say the least, but it motivated Betty to put aside what she couldn’t control (grieving over Jason’s death), and instead, focus on what she could (finding Jason’s killer). She had already filled over four pages in the notebook with her postulations, and already had gone back twice over them to provide corrections and new additions.

So far, Betty had zero possible suspects, save for the obvious collective of anyone who had something against the Blossom family. And unfortunately, that made Betty’s list of suspects span over eight towns and ten cities, all of which Betty had no time to interview each and every person. But still, she’d written down the names of Blossom Incorporated’s enemies, deciding that some information was better than no information at all.

Her list of motives, however, revolved mainly around one focus, and that was that the Blossom family had money. She’d felt bad writing it down, but looking at it now, it was one of the most likely motives Betty could deduce. Because as history had shown — murder and money were often interlaced in the machinations of crime. And from what Betty could understand of Mr. Blossom’s rivals, they were all wealthy and influential men and women with clear footholds in their communities.

It made Betty consider adding Veronica’s father’s name to the list. She’d almost penned in Hiram Lodge’s name when she mentally smacked herself and decided to refrain. Veronica’s face came to mind, and Betty could picture how hurt and upset Veronica would be if she knew what Betty had been thinking.

“I’m sorry, Ronnie,” she whispered. She then opened her notebook to a clean page and began to write.

_Extended motive: killer has ties to Mr. Blossom. (rival? enemy? family?)_  
_Possibilities: scare Mr. Blossom. send message. motives involving money._  
_Next steps: investigate Blossom Incorporated’s business._

She began to nod off after two minutes, and after almost falling asleep over her notebook twice, she decided to put away her things and try to get some sleep.

Betty crawled backwards into the pillows and pulled the covers back on, wiggling down under the comforter. She made sure she was properly cozy before she flicked the nightstand’s lamp off, darkness flooding the room.

She fell asleep three minutes after closing her eyes, and dreamed of Jason.

He was standing on the docks at Camp Rapids in twilight, arms folded at his chest, staring out at and facing the water. His face was pensive, and mouth was set in a thin line of indecision. It was a rare expression for Jason, who always made sure he appeared as confident as possible.

There was a brief sound of shifting grass before Betty stepped onto the docks. She approached Jason from behind, having snuck out of her cabin.

“You’re looking pretty philosophical,” she teased, putting her arms up and around Jason’s shoulders. Jason had tensed momentarily before relaxing into Betty’s hold, lowering his shoulders a bit so that Betty could rest her chin.

“Feeling like it,” Jason replied, still looking out at the water.

“Did you want to talk about it?” Betty offered.

Jason shook his head. “No…it’s just…” he sighed. “I think I’m going to finally lay it down for my dad that I’m not going to take over Blossom Incorporated.”

Betty was quiet, imagining Mr. Blossom’s reaction. It probably wouldn’t be pretty, but she understood Jason’s urgency. After all, he was about to go into his last year of high school, and then after that, he’d go to college, where his father would have the most influence in shaping Jason’s future..

“He needs to understand it’s not what you want,” Betty agreed.

Jason nodded. “Yeah, but…” he shook his head. “He’s going to ask me what my plans are if I’m not going to take on the family business, and I still have no idea what I want to do with my life.”

“That’s okay,” Betty reassured. “You don’t have to have everything figured out just yet, Jason. You’re allowed to explore different avenues.”

Jason snorted. “You sound like our guidance counselor, Bets.”

Betty wrinkled her nose. “I’m just sensible, is all.” Her features then smoothed. “I mean it, though. You don’t have to know what you want to do just yet.”

“That’s not what my dad will say,” Jason countered.

“Then your dad can just sit and sulk,” Betty responded.

Jason laughed. “The Great Clifford Blossom…sulking.” The image was incredibly amusing, and even Betty had a giggle. It lightened the heaviness in Jason’s chest, and he leaned back into Betty’s body, feeling much better than he had felt earlier.

Betty nuzzled her cheek into Jason’s neck, feeling a wave of energy start from the tips of her toes.

“You’ll just have to take it one day at a time,” she gently said.

Jason nodded. “It’ll be pretty tense at the house for a while,” he opined.

“You’ll still have Cheryl,” Betty reminded Jason.

Jason made a face. “If she’s not still mad at me.”

“She’ll come around. She’s reasonable.”

“Have you MET my sister?”

“I believe I have, yes,” Betty quipped, pulling away from Jason briefly so she could come around and stand with him face to face. She cupped his face in her hands, glancing at his lips briefly before looking him in the eye, and saying, “And just like you, she likes to overcomplicate things.”

That made Jason laugh, and his shoulders shook with mirth. “What can I say,” he said wryly. “I’m a complicated guy, Cooper.” He laced his arms about Betty’s waist, pulling her even close. “I’ve got layers upon layers of Intrigue and Mystery.”

Betty cocked her head to the side, eyebrows raised in doubt. “Oh really now.”

“All part of the package deal, Bets.” Jason shrugged his shoulders, smirking. “You get the stud, then you get the entire personality that comes with it.”

Betty scoffed, rolling her eyes. “And ego.” She looked into his eyes, smiling wickedly. “Don’t forget ego.”

Jason wrinkled his nose and dove in for a kiss, crushing Betty’s body against his, and moving his hands from Betty’s sides to tangle fingers in Betty’s hair. She’d worn it down that night, knowing how Jason liked to run his fingers through the strands.

Their kiss lasted a full minute, in which it deepened and caused the two amorous teens to pant. They parted their mouths, but still clung to each other, breathing deeply. 

This was usually how all their late night rendezvous went: they exchanged banter, they started kissing, and then they went to find a nice secluded spot to be alone together. They made sure to keep away from the cabins, preferring to conduct themselves down by the river or in the woods, though they never went too far that they couldn’t see the cabins. They may have been “horny teenagers” (as Jason had put it) but they were smart.

And it definitely looked like that night would be no different from those other nights.

Betty kissed Jason’s lips once more, a tiny laugh on her breath. “Do you think you can hold back that ego long enough for twelve minutes?” There was a suggestive twinkle in her eyes.

Jason grinned, and then dropped his arms to his sides. “Let’s try fifteen minutes tonight, Ms. Cooper.” He then swept Betty off her feet, Betty’s arms instantly going about his neck.

The dream began to fade as Jason carried Betty away, the both of them disappearing into the growing darkness of Betty’s memories until everything faded to black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this chapter -- and I feel like I say that a lot. But I mean it. I hope you enjoyed this chapter and are looking forward to more, because it looks like this is one fanfic that I'll be writing down!


	5. Mixed Messages

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a couple revisions, and I think I might have warbled one, but I'm actually pretty happy with this chapter. Especially since I got to play with Ms. Grundy and delve into Archie's brain.
> 
> Please enjoy!

CHAPTER FIVE:

The next day, Betty asked Polly if they could drive back to Riverdale. It was only Saturday afternoon, and the girls still had the rest of Saturday, as well as a decent half of Sunday, to stay in Greendale. Polly was confused by Betty’s request, and asked what was going through her sister's head, and Betty replied rather simply, “I need to talk to someone.”

“Talk to who?” Polly had then asked.

“A friend,” Betty had said.

Polly’s brows had arched. “You’re going to tell Veronica about the baby?”

Betty shook her head. “No.” She then amended with, “At least, not just yet.”

It was difficult to convince Polly to do what Betty asked when she gave Polly so little information, but in the end, Polly was no match for her little sister’s Puppy Dog Pout Eyes, and just a little after lunch, the two girls packed up and checked out of the motel. They piled back in the van, switched the radio off, turned up Polly’s Smooth Blues compilation CD, and drove out of Greendale.

An hour and thirty minutes later, they arrived back in Riverdale, Betty groggy from an unexpected nap, and Polly still caffeinated from her second energy drink (Betty promised herself that she’d find Polly’s stash at home and get rid of it — those beverages were just not healthy). The van pulled up outside of a small, brick house, one story, not too far from Riverdale High School.

The house looked so cozy, with its little chimney, asphalt grey roof, and of course the elegant garden. The only oddity was the fish-shaped mailbox out front. Across the side of mailbox, was the name GRUNDY painted in sparkling red. Betty stared at each individual sparkle as she stood at the curb, a glazed look in her eyes.

It’d been quite some time since she’d given Ms. Grundy a home visit. The last time that she could remember visiting was in freshman year, and Ms. Grundy had broken her leg when one of Archie and Reggie’s antics caused the teacher’s desk to flip and it landed on Grundy’s leg. The specifics of the antics were forgotten to Betty’s mind, but she remembered how she’d practically shamed Archie and Reggie into visiting Ms. Grundy at home once she’d gotten out of the hospital, with Veronica tagging along to drag the boys in by their ears if needed.

It’d been a memorable visit, despite Archie’s nasty habit of word-vomiting apologies all over the place, and Ms. Grundy had told her pupils that they were always welcome to come visit if need be. At the time, Betty and her friends had simply smiled, thanked Ms. Grundy for her time, and then left. They’d never taken Ms. Grundy up on her offer after that — they saw her enough in school, after all, and Betty had thought that Ms. Grundy deserved to be student-free on her days off. It just hadn’t been in the cards at the time.

Now, however, as Betty stared at Ms. Grundy’s oak front door with its little ornate carvings, she was finally going to take Ms. Grundy up on that offer.

Polly wanted to stay and wait for Betty, but Betty convinced her sister to head home, reassuring Polly that it wasn’t too far a walk from Ms. Grundy’s house to their own house, and that, if need be, she could catch a bus back to their street. Polly was still reluctant to leave Betty, but in the end, she drove the van back down the street, heading home.

Betty watched Polly’s car until it disappeared, and then turned back to the little brick house, summoning all her courage and bravery.

“You can do this, Cooper,” she coached herself gently. “Just one foot in front of the other…”

The walk to the front door seemed much longer than Betty remembered it having been in the past, and the door itself was much bigger as well. Betty could hear her blood thrumming in her ears as she shakily raised a hand to the doorbell adjacent to the door. Her finger froze just before she had her finger to the doorbell’s button, barely touching it, and she had to take a deep breath.

That deep breath turned into two minutes of Betty staring at the doorbell, all other sounds but her own heartbeat gone from her attention, until suddenly, the front door opened of its own accord. For a moment, Betty was startled, and she jumped, letting out a little yelp of surprise.

“Goodness!” came a concerned voice in front of Betty. And when Betty regained her ability to breathe, clutching at her chest, she focused in on the voice’s speaker.

Her high school English Lit teacher, Ms. Grundy, stood inside the front entrance of her house, blinking quizzically at Betty. Her long gray hair was piled up in a messy bun atop her head, pinned with chopsticks and some pencils, and she was wearing a pair of cat themed pajamas with fuzzy, purple slippers to match. She held her front door open with one hand, while the other held the handle of a mug of what smelt to be the most fantastic cup of coffee Betty had ever smelt.

“Betty, dear,” Ms. Grundy prompted. “Are you all right?”

Her mind briefly blanking, Betty nodded. When her thoughts caught back up, she revised her response, sheepish. “Um, yes, Ms. Grundy. Sorry.” She tried to not look down at her shoes like a little first grader, smiling nervously.

Ms. Grundy saw right through Betty’s facade. “Forgive me for sounding rude, but you don’t LOOK ‘all right’,” Ms. Grundy commented, a brow arched in skepticism.

Betty’s smiled dropped. “To be honest, Ms. Grundy, I’m not.”

Ms. Grundy’s face was full of concern and compassion. “Would you like to come in, dear?”

Betty bit her lower lip. “If I’m not interrupting anything…”

Ms. Grundy shook her head. “You’re fine, dear.” She welcomed Betty into her house, closing the door behind her. She guided Betty through an open doorway to a room with a couple couches and a television, while all around the room, souvenirs of world traveling were on display with common knickknacks such as books and magazines. They were all souvenirs that Ms. Grundy’s partner, Gale, had brought home to Geraldine over the years of her travels as a photographer and journalist for National Geographics. Gale always felt bad about having to travel, though Geraldine supported her partner’s career, and often brought back many upon many souvenirs from her travels, spoiling Geraldine with trinkets from Peru to Afghanistan.

Betty found herself staring at one souvenir of what looked to be a pained porcelain cat, with the cat’s gem eyes winking at Betty almost mischievously.

Ms. Grundy gestured for Betty to take a seat on the couch closest to the television, and then seated herself in the rocking chair adjacent from Betty. She set her mug of coffee down on a coaster on the coffee table.

“What’s this about, Betty?’

Betty forced herself to look away from the porcelain cat to answer her teacher.

“I’m not really sure how to explain it,” she admitted.

Ms. Grundy sat back in her rocking chair, making herself comfortable. “Would you like to try?” she asked gently.

Betty nodded. “I would.” She was quiet for a moment, and Ms. Grundy considered possibly prompting Betty again, but after the thirty second mark, Betty continued speaking.

“I just found something out.” She clenched her hands in her lap, kept her legs together, with her feet pointing straight to Ms. Grundy. Betty looked very small seated on the worn, green cushions of the couch, and seemed to be trying to make herself appear smaller.

Ms. Grundy could hear the alarms in her head going off. “I see,” she said calmly. What else could she respond with? She had over a hundred ideas in her head of what Betty could have found, with each idea of exactly what that ‘what’ could possibly be growing more exaggerated and dramatic. She didn’t say anything, though. Rather, she listened silently.

Betty was quiet for a couple more seconds, before she continued speaking, and, it seemed, that came with a bit of hesitance. 

“It involves Jason.”

Ms. Grundy had to restrain herself from leaping to her feet and rushing to Betty’s side. She’d known that Betty and Jason had been dating, and that they’d been together when Jason was murdered, and had felt her heart squeeze so painfully for Jason Blossom and Betty Cooper. She had memories of seeing the two teens wrapped up in each other, whether stealing kisses by the lockers, or Betty seated on Jason’s lap outside the school’s entrance some steps, Betty using Jason’s shoulder for a headrest.

They hadn’t been the only couple Ms. Grundy had witnessed in her tenure at Riverdale High School. In fact, Betty and Jason often had dated other people aside from each other. Betty had been part of (was she still part of?) the legendary love triangle consisting of Betty Cooper, her best friend, Veronica Lodge, and their friend, Archie Andrews. Their antics were famous in Riverdale — two girls fighting over this one boy — and Geraldine Grundy had been of the few percent who hadn’t been amused by the chaos. It was one thing for Betty and Veronica, two of her dearest students, to be fighting over a boy, it was another for that boy to be Archie Andrews.

In all the years Ms. Grundy had known Archie, he’d been consistently popular with the girls his age. Geraldine didn’t understand what it was about Archie that drew in admirers, but she supposed his boyish charm was enough to ensnare the hearts of his classmates and then some. And Archie was certainly aware of the effect he had on the opposite sex — he liked dating, and he liked to date as many girls as possible, despite the chaos it wreaked upon those around him. Oh, Archie could be a wonderful friend and caring individual, but there was something about girls that got that boy’s blood thumping. 

But no girl could get Archie’s blood rushing the Betty and Veronica could. Those girls had always been the main fixtures of Archie’s love life.

Archie had been the envy of many young boys — having two beautiful girls chasing for his affections, and Archie had even bragged a couple times to his fellows. Until Betty and Veronica found out and soundly thumped Archie over his head, the way they always did whenever Archie did something callous or stupid, or just nonsensical. Because with the attention of those two girls came their jealousy, their pettiness, and of course, their fury. They scrapped with Archie almost as much as they scrapped with each other!

Which was why it was always somewhat satisfying when Betty and Veronica dated other boys. Satisfying, because it made Archie jealous, but somewhat, because that only made Archie start his own scrapping with the girls’ potential beaus, even when he’d be dating Betty OR Veronica at the same time! Archie was quite fine with stringing the girls along, but when the girls started to pull on Archie’s string?

It was all just so frustrating to Ms. Grundy, so when Jason Blossom, one of Betty’s Other Beaus had decided he wanted something more concrete with Betty, Geraldine had been happy for her students.

Jason had made Betty happy in ways Archie couldn’t. And if it hadn’t been the way Betty and Jason had acted at school those last few months before summer, when they’d been inching towards steadying, then it’d been with the comparison of the Betty who returned from from summer, eyes haunted, and her happiness shattered.

Ms. Grundy leaned forward in her chair. “Do you need to tell the police, dear?”

Betty shook her head. “No.” Then her nose wrinkled, brow furrowed, and she was unsure. “I don’t think so.”

Ms. Grundy frowned — all her ideas of what would cause Betty to seek her out were going down the drain. “Would it feel better to tell me what happened?”

Betty nodded. “Yes. Because it also concerns school.”

“School?”

“Yes.” Betty’s voice had gotten a little quieter.

Ms. Grundy was growing more and more confused. “Is someone causing you trouble, Betty?” She knew that Betty’s classmates were trying to be respectful towards Betty after what happened — not mentioning Jason’s name, not inquiring after the nature of their relationship — but there were always some bad apples who were too insensitive to understand Betty’s state.

Both Betty’s, and Cheryl’s.

Betty shook her head. “No.” Her hands fidgeted in her lap. “I don’t really know how to say it?”

Ms. Grundy nodded, understanding, somewhat, Betty’s anxiety. “Take your time,” she assured. She leaned back into her rocking chair, deciding to make herself comfortable before the shocking news Betty had to share.

She was just reaching for her mug of coffee when Betty quietly said:

“I’m pregnant.”

Geraldine’s hand froze just as her fingertips brushed the mug’s handle.

“Beg pardon?” She stared at Betty, unsure if she’d heard right.

Betty’s face was beet red. “I’m pregnant, Ms. Grundy.”

Ms. Grundy stared some more, unsure how to respond. Fortunately for Geraldine, something interrupted the pause, in the form of a fuzzy white cat scurrying across the living room floor and then jumping up into Betty’s lap, startlng the teenager.

“Hey!”

“Meow.”

Ms. Grundy’s shoulders dropped — she hadn’t even realized she’d been holding them for so long — and she sighed.

“Sorry about that, dear,” Geraldine apologized. “Kirk must remember you from when you last visited.” She finally seized the handle of her coffee mug and lifted the beverage to her lips to take a languorous sip.

Over on the couch, Betty adjusted to now having a cat — Kirk — in her lap. Her heart rate had climbed a little for a moment there, but once she recognized the feline friend, she relaxed. She might have also shot Kirk a dirty look, though one look into the cat’s intelligent brown eyes turned Betty’s ire to jelly, and she sighed.

“Hello, Kirk,” Betty properly greeted the feline. She scratched under the cat’s chin, earning her a round of pleased purring.

“Spock is around here somewhere,” Geraldine mused of her other fuzzy friend. Spock was a grayish-black cat, a little rounder than Kirk, and also much more mellow. While Kirk liked to pounce about the house, Spock enjoyed lounging about and enjoying peace and quiet. It’d been Gale’s idea to name the cats Kirk and Spock — Gale being a long time Star Trek fan and what not — and Geraldine hadn’t had the heart to tell her beloved “no”. Though, honestly, Geraldine would protest that Gale made saying “no” incredibly difficult.

“I remember Spock,” Betty mused aloud, still giving Kirk the chin scratches of his wildest dreams. Geraldine smiled softly, setting her coffee mug back down on the coaster on the coffee table. It was good for Kirk to distract Betty from the conversation — it gave Geraldine some brief moments to compartmentalize what Betty had just told her.

It made sense — now that she was able to think about it. She thought back to Monday, when Betty had been practically falling asleep during Geraldine’s English Lit class. She’d looked quite groggy, eyelids drooping, focus drifting. Ms. Grundy had overheard Veronica and Archie talking once about Betty having nightmares, so she’d assumed that Betty wasn’t getting much sleep at night.

But, Geraldine supposed, that if Betty was pregnant, then Betty’s exhaustion wasn’t entirely the fault of her nightmares. Pregnancy could be very taxing on the body — from what Geraldine had remembered learning in school and through her connections with many women throughout her life. And the effect of a pregnancy on Betty’s already weak, weary, and young body would definitely prove to be more taxing than the normal pregnancy of an older woman.

Concern bubbled inside her chest, and Geraldine cleared her throat, recapturing Betty’s attention.

“Would you mind if I asked you when you found out you were pregnant?”

Betty stopped spoiling Kirk. “I don’t mind,” she answered. “I, um, took a home pregnancy test Monday night, and then yesterday, I visited Planned Parenthood for confirmation.”

Ms. Grundy felt a spark of pride for her student for being so logical. “And what did they say?”

“I’m a little over two months along.”

Ms. Grundy closed her eyes, brain already doing mental math of how long Betty would have before she would (hopefully, if all went right) give birth, and concluded that early June was the latest she could estimate.

“Have you told your parents?”

She opened her eyes and saw Betty squirm. Kirk meowed in protest at the movement. 

“Not yet. My sister and I just got back from Greendale, actually.”

Gerladine’s brow furrowed. “So she knows about the pregnancy?”

Betty nodded. “Polly does.”

That relieved Geraldine somewhat. At least someone in Betty’s family was in the know. “I assume that Polly went with you to Planned Parenthood?”

“She drove me down there — we told my parents a cover story that we were just going out of town for the weekend to get away for a bit.” Betty looked incredibly guilty, ashamed of herself for having kept the truth from her parents.

“Well…you weren’t lying,” Ms. Grundy said carefully. Because technically, Betty hand’t been. She’d just neglected to mention to her parents that “getting away” for the weekend was actually “getting away to a clinic for a pregnancy exam”.

Betty’s face was still doubtful, and Geraldine amended her previous statement. “You did nothing wrong, dear.” She settled back in her chair. Truly, it’d been a wise move on Betty’s part — getting confirmation from a credible source.

“I know,” Betty agreed. “Which is why I came here.”

That made Ms. Grundy wonder. “To tell me?”

“To ask for your help.”

Ms. Grundy blinked. “My help?” She put her hands on the arms of the rocking chair. As much as Geraldine wanted to tell Betty that she would do whatever she could, Geraldine knew it wouldn’t be true.

Betty was looking straight into Ms. Grundy’s face when she nodded. “I don’t want to drop out of school because I’m pregnant, Ms. Grundy.”

Geraldine hadn’t even considered the possibility. But now that Betty had put the thought in Ms. Grundy’s mind, the teacher did contemplate that, perhaps, the school board would be reluctant to let Betty continue her education while pregnant.

“We’d have to talk to Mr. Weatherbee about that, dear,” Grundy responded. Betty’s shoulders drooped, not pleased with the answer. “It’s not up to me to decide whether or not you can stay in school if you’re pregnant.” Though, if it were, she’d have Betty stay in school. But unfortunately, she didn’t have as much as the school’s principal, Mr. Weatherbee. And even he had to answer to the school board.

“Do you think…they’ll kick me out?” Betty’s voice had gotten quiet again.

Ms. Grundy frowned. “I don’t know — but I’m certain that Mr. Weatherbee won’t allow that to happen.” 

She’d known Waldo Weatherbee for years, and he’d always been a very understanding (if not high-strung) man. He cared deeply for his students (even Archie, who frustrated Waldo to no end) and sought the best for Riverdale High School. Geraldine was proud to call him her boss, and even her friend — he’d been there the first day Geraldine had started teaching at Riverdale High School, seen her through the kerfuffle over her sexuality (because stuffy, old, self-important business men had an issue with a gay woman teaching teenagers their Shakespeare and Gatsby), and even been present at Gale and Geraldine’s little wedding ceremony fifteen years previous.

Waldo would no doubt understand Betty’s plight.

Something then occurred to Geraldine.

“I can go with you to talk to him, Betty.” It was the right thing to say, because Betty finally started to relax. “But, first, we’d have to have your parents in the know.”

The tension returned to Betty’s body. “I’m going to tell them tonight.” She looked like she wanted to do anything but tell her parents, and Ms. Grundy felt sympathy for the scared teenager.

“You don’t want to?” Ms. Grundy correctly guessed. Betty nodded, silent. Geraldine felt her heart go out to her student. “Would it help if I was there when you told them?”

Betty looked at Ms. Grundy with eyes filled with desperation. “You’d come with me?”

Geraldine nodded. “If you need me to.”

Betty considered this for a couple seconds, before she said, “Please.”

 

It was past three in the afternoon when Ms. Grundy parked her car in the Cooper’s driveway, an anxious Betty in the passenger seat, full of nerves. The car ride over to Betty’s house had been silent, with Geraldine wondering what she’d say to Betty’s parents, and Betty imagining all the possible reactions her parents would have to the news of Betty’s pregnancy.

Thirty minutes after Ms. Grundy parked her car in the driveway, she was seated at the Cooper’s kitchen table, Alice Cooper and Hal Cooper sat across the table, and Betty seated to Grundy’s left. Polly Cooper was in the other room, no doubt listening to the conversation, but keeping respectable distance.

The kitchen itself was quiet — uncomfortably so — and no one at the table said a word for a good full minute.

Finally, Mr. Cooper said something.

“What?”

Betty bit her lip, but repeated what she’d just said: “I’m pregnant, Dad.”

Alice Cooper stared at her youngest child, eyes full of disbelief, as if she couldn’t believe what her child was saying. Alice had always prided herself in having such a model daughter, and of all the things she’d considered Betty telling her, she’d never considered the statement “I’m pregnant”.

“Is it…” her brain was firing in all directions, trying to understand what was happening. “Is it Archie’s?” She didn’t know what she’d suggested Archie’s name — he was really the only boy who Betty had ever been so infatuated with that Alice had once considered the possibility of Betty becoming sexually involved with the Andrews boy.

Hal had also considered the possibility, once, and had responded to the thought by cornering Archie one day in the Cooper household and reminding Archie that if he did anything “untoward” to Hal’s little girl, then Archie would be forbidden to see Betty ever again. It’d been a bit extreme, and Archie had been honestly scared, but Hal had felt satisfied that he’d gotten his message across. So at the mention of Archie’s name, Hal Cooper’s face turned to thunder. 

The question had shocked Betty, and her face reddened spectacularly. “What? No!” she sputtered, her voice a little shrill.

Hal continued. “Then who is the father?” 

Mr. Cooper’s mind was already churning over the things he would to whoever had dared to impregnate Hal’s precious little girl. While Hal Cooper was a reasonable man, he was fiercely protective of his youngest daughter, and though he tried to not let the much more modest values he’d grown up with cloud his expectations of his children, the fact that his sweet little Elizabeth, his little tomboy princess, was seated across from him at the kitchen table, telling Hal that she was pregnant?

His temper flared.

Betty’s face broke. “It’s Jason’s.”

And then just like that, Hal’s temper was doused, and he didn’t know what to say. Beside him, his sweet Alice squeezed her eyes shut.

Ms. Grundy watched Betty’s parents, and the myriad of emotions displayed. She also glanced at Betty, who was looking down at her hands in her lap, quiet. She wondered if she should say something, but resolved to remain silent for Betty’s sake.

Alice broke the silence with a small voice. “Is that…is that why you didn’t want to go to the hospital three weeks ago, Betty?” She looked imploringly into her daughter’s face. “Because you knew you were pregnant?”

Betty struggled to keep her mother’s gaze. “I didn’t really know. I’d just…suspected.”

Understanding flooded Alice’s face, and for a moment, she looked very disappointed. “Oh, Betty…”

Hal stared at Ms. Grundy. “Did you know about this?”

Ms. Grundy frowned. “I only found out earlier today when Betty visited me, Mr. Cooper.” She wasn’t intimidated — she’d dealt with emotional parents several times over, and had long since phased out the capability of being affected by any attempts at intimidation.

Mr. Cooper turned back to his daughter. “Did you take a test to be sure?”

Betty lifted her chin. “I took a pregnancy test on Monday night, and then went to a Planned Parenthood clinic Friday after school to confirm it.”

“Is that what you and Polly planned to do after you left Riverdale?” His brow furrowed. “Is that WHY you and Polly left Riverdale in the first place?”

Betty didn’t say anything, but her silence was answer enough for Hal.

“Dammit!” he cursed.

Alice put a hand on her husband’s arm. “Hal,” she said gently. Her tone helped calm Hal’s mood, and he gave his wife a grateful look.

“I’m a little over two months along,” Betty added sheepishly. “I had an ultrasound and…I brought back pictures.”

Alice looked at her daughter. “May we see them?”

Betty nodded. “Polly has them.”

“Go and get them,” Hal said sternly. Betty nodded, and did as her father asked, absent for less than a minute before she returned, a manila envelope in hand. She handed it to her father, who handed it to Betty’s mother.

Alice delicately undid the clasp on the envelope and turned the envelope upside down, photos spilling out onto the table. Alice’s breath caught in her throat as she saw what was on the pictures, and Hal had gone quiet beside her.

Geraldine watched as the two parents stared at the photos, each containing a shot taken from Betty’s ultrasound. She could see the size of the fetus, and the signs of what would become human life, and it made her throat go dry, seeing live proof of Betty’s condition as compared to having been told.

Betty tried to decipher her parents’ expressions, stomach doing massive flip-flops. “I want to keep my baby,” she said.

Alice looked up at Betty, eyes moist with emotion.

“You’re still in school, Betty.”

“I know,” Betty agreed. “And I’m going to stay in school.” Her voice rose with determination. “After I talk to Mr. Weatherbee.”

Geraldine decided that it was an appropriate time for her to speak. “I’ve already offered to be present during the meeting, Mr. Cooper. Mrs. Cooper.” She gave each parent a meaningful look. “Betty shouldn’t have to drop out because of her pregnancy.”

Alice nodded. “I agree.” She looked to her husband. “And Mr. Cooper and I would be more than willing to sit down with Mr. Weatherbee as well.” Her gaze went to her daughter, and her heart squeezed at the hope in Betty’s blue eyes.

“We’ll just need some time to…think about this.”

 

Four streets over from the Cooper’s household was the Andrews’ house. It sat directly on the corner of a street, bordered by a tough, wood fence, now wearing due to weathering and the passage of time. The Andrews house was a light blue, with black roof, small hill at the front yard, with Mrs. Andrews’ beloved rose garden bordering with some small shrubbery. There was a basketball hoop above the garage, and the driveway was occupied by two cars — one being a simple subaru, brown and only slightly scratched, and the other being an obviously old, but lovingly repaired, red van.

And seated in that van was one Archie Andrews, who had just driven back home from Veronica Lodge’s mansion. It had been another lukewarm date with one Veronica Lodge, and Archie was feeling quite frustrated. Whether with himself, with Veronica, or with himself AND Veronica, Archie couldn’t answer. He’d always enjoyed his nights out with Veronica — making out on her living room couch with her parents gone, and watching a movie from Mr. Lodge’s massive movie collection. But tonight, Veronica’s lips hadn’t pressed so eagerly against Archie’s, her touches had been fleeting, and she’d opted to not start a movie, instead directing Archie out the door.

It’d been the shortest date Archie had ever had with Veronica — a full hour before he was shown the door — so, technically, Archie was home early on a Saturday night. Which was frustrating for Archie, because Saturday nights usually spent cuddled up to Veronica, or, once upon a time, to Betty. 

The three teenagers had a long history of hot kisses, sneaky touches, and of course, the ever present love triangle. The triangle had existed since as far back as Archie could remember, with the girls having knockdown brawls on the playground over who got to eat lunch with Archie, to Archie glaring holes in the back of the heads of any boy who so much as nursed a crush on either Betty or Veronica. And as the kids grew, the antics remained generally the same, though Archie did develop a habit of chasing girls BESIDES Betty and Veronica (and boy, had that spelt trouble!)

Certainly, there’d been boys who had tried to convince the girls to look their way, but in the end, they’d all lost when going up against the attraction the girls had towards Archie. There’d been over five dozen boys who’d tried to go up against Archie for either Betty or Veronica’s affections, but Archie had always won back the girls’ attention, leaving those other boys in the lurch.

Archie had been so confident in his hold on the girls — but then Jason Blossom made a gamble for Betty’s heart, won, and took Betty away from Archie. And without Betty there to challenge Veronica’s claim on Archie, the love triangle had begun to fade, as well as Veronicas’s affections. She was still his friend — there was no doubt of that — but Veronica no longer looked at Archie with the hungry, selfish desire that Archie had been so used to seeing.

Which brought him back to Betty — Betty who had always been the Girl Next Door, dazzling everyone with her generosity and her kindness. She had the capability to turn even the hardest of hearts soft, the rudest of boys into polite princes, and even the most arrogant of men to consider lowering their egos. Betty had this natural demeanor that made people want to be better for Betty’s sake. And there’d been many a time when Archie had wanted that, too, but not enough times that he could surpass Jason Blossom, who’d wanted it even more.

Had Archie been jealous of Jason? Yes, he could admit that. Was he still jealous of Jason, even after Jason’s death? An awful part of Archie would say, ‘yes’, once again. And Archie didn’t know how to handle those feelings. He was familiar with jealousy — most definitely — but the jealousy he felt right now was an entirely different creature from the moody, green puppy that had been the representation of Archie’s envy. Because how could he compete with someone who was dead? And how could he even THINK of competing with someone who was dead, and was he really so petty?

“Yes,” Jughead had responded when Archie asked him earlier that morning. “You are, remarkably, that petty, Arch.” And Archie couldn’t even be mad at Jughead, because Archie had been the one who’d asked the question, and Jughead’s answer was the truth. Archie just hadn’t wanted to accept it.

“You’re not a bad person for being jealous of Jason,” Jughead had continued, seeing the turmoil in Archie’s face. “I have never understood your love triangle with Betty and Veronica, and even though it’s caused everyone nothing but trouble, it’s existed for as long as we’ve known each other. I can’t remember a day when those girls weren’t absolutely batty for you. But I CAN remember that Betty was always the one who cared the most, and you have always treated her shabby.”

“I wasn’t that bad!” Archie had protested. But Jughead’s glare had cut off Archie’s outrage.

“Oh, yes. Yes, you were, Arch. You don’t remember all those times that you’d have a date planned with Betty, and then you’d break it off as soon as Veronica called?” Archie had grimaced, because, yes, he did remember all those times. “Half the time, Arch, I was that shoulder Betty cried on. And I’d tried to be a good friend to you — I tried to tell her that you’d eventually come around, but you can only say that to a girl for the five-hundred time until she realizes that she could have better.”

“And Jason was ‘better’?”

“Jason might have been something of a creep. But he’d been a creep who had nothing but Betty on his mind. I’m not saying he didn’t have flaws — he had HUGE flaws — but when Betty wanted better from him, he did what he could to give that to her. And he did it on a consistent basis, which was more than you had ever done for Betty, yourself. So, yes, Jason was better.”

That’d been harder for Archie to hear.

“I love, Betty, too, Jug.”

“Yeah. And so do I, Arch. But Jason loved Betty the way Betty deserved. And you’re jealous that someone could give that kind of unconditional love to Betty.”

Jughead’s words had stayed on Archie’s brain the rest of the day, and maybe he’d even thought about them when he’d been cozying up with Veronica. Maybe he’d thought back to that chaste kiss Betty gave him in the school parking lot on Friday afternoon, a beautiful smile on her lips, and a twinkle in her blue eyes. And, quite possibly, he’d remembered that it was the first kiss he’d gotten from Betty since before the summer. And though Archie understood that Betty had gone through a great ordeal during the summer, he’d felt such a rush of nostalgia, and he’d wanted to back to the days when Betty wanted nothing but Archie.

It was true. Archie Andrews was, remarkably, that petty.

“So what am I supposed to do,” Archie asked himself, alone in his car.

Jughead’s voice spoke from the back of his mind. “Just be her friend, Arch. Right now, she needs a friend more than she needs a boyfriend.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do,” Archie vowed. “I’ll be the best friend I can possibly be for Betty.” With that resolve made, he finally left his car, made sure to lock the doors, and then headed for his house’s front door.

“Ma, Pop,” he cheerily called as he opened the already unlocked front door — it usually remained unlocked until Archie got home, or if Mr. and Mrs. Andrews were out for the night. 

“I’m home!”

His mother’s voice came from her sewing room a little down the hall, right across from the kitchen area. “You’re home early!” The sound of a sewing machine working was in the background, the old machine loudly puttering away.

As Archie removed his shoes at the front door’s shoe basket, his mother continued talking. “Did you and Veronica have a good time?”

“We did, but she wanted to turn in early to study,” Archie lied. He didn’t want to tell his mother that Veronica had sent him home — it was something Archie’s mother had heard over a million times whenever Veronica and Archie were on opposite ends of a spectrum.

“Oh,” Mary Andrews said, surprised. Archie knew that his mother didn’t believe Archie’s lie — she knew too well to not see through Archie’s fibs. “Well, I’m glad that she’s taking her studies so seriously without anyone prompting her.” Archie couldn’t blame his mother’s skepticism. Usually, only Betty could inspire that kind of dedication in Veronica, and that was only after Mr. Lodge threatened to cut off Veronica’s credit cards if she didn’t bring her grades up.

“Ronnie’s trying to turn a new leaf, Ma,” Archie informed his mother, walking down the hall in his socked feet. He turned into the sewing room and found his mother with what looked to be another project. “What’cha doing?”

Mary Andrews lifted a foot off the machine’s gas pedal, the sewing room absent of noise. “Just repairing some old clothes before giving them to the thrift shop.” She looked up from her work, smiling. “I’d hate to throw them away when they only need some touching up.”

Archie’s mother had always hated throwing away anything that could be recycled. From trash, to food, to clothes and other miscellaneous, Mary Andrews was a firm believer in not letting something go to waste. Archie’s father, Fred Andrews, had once said it was part of the reason Fred had fallen in love with Mary, and he’d said it with that dopey grin on his face that he got whenever Mary was being particularly amazing, and Archie had to look away.

You could only watch your parents be sappy romantics for long, after all.

“I’m sure the thrift shop’ll appreciate the donation, Ma,” Archie said honestly.

Mary smiled. “Thank you, sweetie.”

Archie’s mother was a short, pleasantly plump woman, with short, wavy red hair, and sharp brown eyes that Fred had always said reminded him of chocolate. She had prominent dimples on her cheeks when she smiled, a button nose that wrinkled when she was puzzled, and a mouth that was almost always conveying positivity. She was a perfectly compliment to Archie’s black-haired, green-eyed father, who often seemed more stern than the simple man he was in actuality.

It was obvious from where Archie had gotten the most of his looks, including Mary’s dapple brown eyes which were ever so charming and, at times, quite alluring (at least, that’s what his father had said, but Archie had tried not to pay attention).

“How is Veronica doing, by the way?” Mary asked.

Archie shrugged his shoulders. “She’s doing fine. I think she’s been pretty worked up about Betty.”

Mary’s eyes softened. “The poor dear. It must be hard for Veronica to see Betty so depressed.”

Archie’s brow furrowed. “It’s hard for me, too, Ma.”

“I know, sweetie. But Betty and Veronica have always been so close.” Mary turned back to her sewing machine. “And I remember Veronica was pretty upset when Betty first came home after Jason Blossom’s murder. You two weren’t able to go on a date for an entire week, after all.”

“You’re right, Ma. I’m sorry.” Archie stuffed his hands in his jacket pockets. “Is Dad home?”

“He got home about an hour ago and started doing some paperwork at the kitchen table.” Mary pointed out the door. “I think he’s in the garage, now, if I’m hearing his treadmill right.”

Fred Andrews usually liked to be on his treadmill after working from five to six at his construction business, Andrews’ Constructions, Riverdale’s only construction company, taking care of most all construction jobs in town. Of the treadmill, Fred had said it helped lower his stress levels while keeping him in shape, which was important, because as the owner of Andrews’ Construction Fred was constantly moving, whether in the office or on the site of another job. Archie had spent enough Bring Your Son To Work Days at his dad’s company to observe the effort first hand.

Archie bent down and placed a peck on his mother’s cheek. “Thanks, Ma.” Mary waved him off with a murmured “you, too, dear” before putting her foot down on the sewing machine’s peddle and filling the sewing room with noise.

The garage was not far off from the kitchen, and Archie only had to open a door at the end of the hall to find his father hitting his fortieth minute of running on his treadmill. The portable radio was tuned into some random radio station — it sounded Spanish — and Fred was staring straight ahead at the garage door, pumping his arms.

It only took the click of the door shutting behind Archie to catch Fred’s notice. And he said the same thing that his wife had said, though, it was more of an observation.

“You’re home early.”

“Veronica had to study,” Archie explained.

“Smart girl,” Fred opined. “She doing all right?”

“She’s doing fine.”

“That’s good.”

It was hard to have a conversation with Fred when he was on his treadmill. He was usually either focused on the treadmill or the conversation, and usually, the treadmill won the tug-o-war. Unless Fred’s wife was competing, and then Mary was the exception to the rule.

Archie walked over to the treadmill and peeked a look at the machine’s stats.

“That high of an incline, Pop?”

Fred huffed. “Helps fight back the cholesterol, kiddo.” And then for emphasis, he pushed a button which raised the incline up another level.

Archie knew what that meant. “Rough day at work?” Fred usually only ramped up his workout when he had a frustrating day at work. While Archie’s father was a dedicated worker and devoted boss, his employees sometimes left Fred with enough headaches to kill almost an entire bottle of Advil each week. There’d even been one week that Mary had to take Fred to the doctors because Fred had developed a pounding migraine that had only ceased after starting some new medication and agreeing to drink more water.

“You could say that,” Fred responded to his son. “We got a new project coming up with some big-shot company from New York that wants to make a base in Riverdale.” His voice turned gruff, as it always did when he was particularly angry. “They thought we were small town yokels and treated us like crap the entire meeting.” He huffed, remembering his ordeal. 

“Was going to threw them out just on principle alone, but the money they’re going to give us is too good to pass up.”

Archie grimaced. He understood that, since Riverdale was a small town, many companies looking to make a base in Riverdale usually thought that the locals were nothing but country townies. Especially the companies who were from the big cities — they’d look down their noses at Riverdale’s small community and think that they could get their hooks in without so much as a by their leave. 

“What’s the company name?” Archie asked, curious to know what new city-slick business was trying to move into town.

“Hedera,” Fred answered. “the owner, Ivan Hedera, is apparently a business associate of Blossom Incorporated.”

Archie frowned. “So they’re a software company?”

“No. They’re some research and development group.” Fred pushed a button on the machine and it came to a stop. Fred took the towel hanging over the side of the machine and dabbed at his damp brow. Archie fetched a water bottle from a pack by the workbench and brought it to Fred, uncapping it before handing it over.

“Thanks, kid,” Fred said, taking the bottle and taking a mighty swig. “Ah! That’s the stuff.” He lowered the bottle, wiping away any moisture on his mouth with the back of his hand.

Archie was about to turn around and go back into the house, but his dad stopped him.

“Everything okay with Betty?”

Archie’s shoulders tensed and he turned back around to his dad, trying to smile.

“Yeah. She’s good, Pop. We saw that movie Monday night with Cheryl and Jug.” Which had been the only night since that Archie had spent with Betty, despite there being two other people present.

Fred frowned. “You haven’t spent anymore time with her?”

Archie shook his head. “She’s still recovering, Pop.”

“Poor kid. Hope she feels better, soon.”

“We all do.” Archie felt that he was done speaking his father. “I’m gonna head up stairs and get stuff ready for school tomorrow, Pop.”

Fred clapped a hand on Archie’s shoulder. “That’s my boy. Smart thing to do.”

Archie left his father in the garage and headed upstairs to his room, passing by his eight month old rescue dog, Vegas. The dog leapt to his paws and barked excitedly at seeing Archie’s face, tongue lolling out, fluffy tail wagging.

“Hey, Vegas!” Archie cooed, reaching down to scratch under Vegas’s chin in the middle of the hallway. “Did you miss me, pal? I was only gone for a couple hours.” He got off the floor and headed to his room, Vegas following at his heels. Archie opened his room’s door and Vegas immediately went for Archie’s bed, jumping up and then plopping down on the pillows.

“Hey, I need to sleep there, buddy!” Archie reminded.

Vegas smacked his chops in response.

“Man’s best friend, huh?” Archie rolled his eyes and flicked on the room’s light. “Just don’t drool on the pillows again, bud. It doesn’t exactly rinse out of hair too well in the morning.” He made his way over to his desk which was right next to the window looking out at his front yard and the street. 

The desk had his laptop in the corner, with some paper and school supplies at the left most side, right where he’d put them a couple hours ago when he got home from Jughead’s before heading over to Veronica’s house. There were also some pages of music he’d started writing, with a folder of his guitar notes underneath. There were eraser shavings all over, and a couple of fresh additions to the notes.

Archie looked down at the papers with a concentrated frown, reading over what he’d written. Remembering the beat he’d tried playing on his guitar earlier, he tried to sing the verse.

“ _…you’re getting into his arms in the pale moonlight,_  
_and you never looked happier and so warm,_  
_and I know that I had my chance to make it right,_  
_but I was never the right kind of guy,_  
_and I kept tearing your heart apart…_ ”

He stopped, frowning, taking a finger to the paper and gently touching the words he’d written. They’d felt right when he’d first imagined them in school on Thursday, and he’d quickly scribbled them down so he wouldn’t forget, but for some reason, they just didn’t sit right on Archie’s mind. They felt too…personal.

Vegas made a whining noise, making Archie look up. 

He smiled wryly. “Too dramatic for you, Veg?”

Vegas whined again, so Archie abandoned his desk and headed for his bed, careful to not knock against his guitar case leaning against the foot of the bed. 

He sat down on the edge of the bed, right next to his beloved pet. He immediately began stroking Vegas’s side, knowing it helped soothe his friend. Within seconds, Vegas was snuggling down into the pillows, stretching out his body to give Archie that message that the spoilt pooch wanted belly rubs.

Tired, Archie reclined back onto the pillows behind Vegas, one arm draped over Vegas’s side, hands starting to rub back and forth on Vegas’s soft tummy. It was actually as beneficial to Archie as it was to Vegas, with Archie able to relax in the almost mindless repetition for a couple minutes, before his phone in his back pants pocket buzzed, and he reached behind to pull out the device.

The screen was lit up, glowing on Archie’s face, with a text message from Veronica displayed on the phone’s lock screen.

_ronnie <3: betty’s back in town. saw polly driving home!_

Archie frowned. He’d thought that Betty said that she and Polly were going to Greendale for the weekend.

He opened up his phone and brought up the messenger, responding to Veronica’s text.

_archie: did she text you?_

It only took a couple seconds for Veronica to reply back.

_ronnie <3: no. she told me she would.  
ronnie<3: did she txt you?_

_archie: no. i haven’t heard anything either.  
archie: should I txt her?_

_ronnie <3: no, i’ll do it. it’s just weird that she didn’t txt me._

_archie: maybe she forgot?_

_ronnie <3: betty never forgets to txt me._

_archie: she’s forgotten to txt me a couple times._

_ronnie <3: that’s different._

Archie couldn’t help but feel a little insulted.

_ronnie <3: i’ll txt her later. sorry again bout tonight.  
ronnie<3: night archiekins!_

Archie didn’t bother texting back ‘goodnight’ as he’d usually do. Instead, he stared at Veronica’s last text message, mind troubled, before he sighed, frustrated, and stuffed his phone beneath the pillows, laying his head down and closing his eyes.

He promised himself that he'd find out what was going on tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got some ideas for the next chapter that I'm working on, so I'll try to get that out to you by next week at the most. Thank you so much for reading!


	6. Stressing the Point

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one took a lot longer to get out than the last one, but I needed to make sure I hit all the points before we really start getting into the story. So please forgive me for the delay, and please enjoy this chapter!

CHAPTER SIX:

Betty knew she had forgotten something, when Sunday morning, she woke to a new text message from Veronica.

_ron: saw your sister in town. you home?_

Her stomach roiled unpleasantly, and Betty made a quick beeline to the bathroom where she bent over the porcelain throne and had her day’s first bout of morning sickness. It lasted about a full minute, and then she got up and washed her mouth out at the sink, dried off her hands with a towel, and replied to Veronica’s message.

_bets: yeah, got back yesterday afternoon. real tired._

It wasn’t a total lie. After Ms. Grundy had left the Cooper household yesterday, promising to back Betty up when she was ready to talk to Principal Weatherbee, Betty’s parents had sat her down, and together, they all had an in-depth discussion on Betty’s future. It had included university, parenthood, and Betty’s dream career, and Betty had felt utterly drained at the conclusion, in which she promised to think about her plans for the future. Plans which included an aversion to dating, minimization of a social life, as well as revisions on spending habits.

All these things Betty had already contemplated before she’d told her parents, so she was somewhat prepared to answer all their questions. She was diplomatic, organized, and she managed to convince her parents to give her time to adjust, asking that they keep knowledge of her pregnancy within the family, and after her parents had both agreed, Betty had gone straight to bed and fallen asleep, exhausted.

_ron: wanna meet up?_

Betty bit her lower lip, unsure how to respond to Veronica. On one hand, she wanted to see Veronica, but on the other hand, she wanted to lay low for the rest of Sunday. She could stand doing some studying for school, and then maybe start collecting information on Jason’s murder investigation (she hoped that her parents had yet to throw out the old newspapers). She could also call Cheryl and ask her what she’d expect of Betty for Jason’s funeral, and maybe Betty could even get the exact date of the funeral for her calendar.

She made her decision and responded to Veronica’s query.

_bets: can’t. sorry. got studying to do._

_ron: ugh. you’re always studying, bee._

_bets: which is why i get good grades._

_ron: i could come over and keep you company?_

_bets: it’s okay. i’m just going to take a me-day._

_ron: if you’re sure._

Betty felt bad about disappointed Veronica, but promised herself that she’d make it up to Veronica the next day, at school. Maybe she could take Veronica out for a pedicure and then to that bubble tea store in the mall that Veronica liked so much.

With that resolve, she began her Sunday. And just as she’d planned, it was filled with nothing but busy work. 

She spent over three hours collecting the newspapers featuring articles on Jason’s murder, and though she got teary eyed several times over rereading the specifics, she persevered with her clippings. She collected everything she could, and ended up with what were basically repeats of the same article, but kept them anyways. The articles weren’t exactly forthcoming about the possible identity of Jason’s murderer, but Betty found a pen and highlighted key points and possible clues.

Her inner Nancy Drew also kept an eye out for any articles featuring new developments in Riverdale. There were articles regarding the introduction of renovations on the town’s library’s roof (dated a week after Jason’s death), and some notices about events taking place down at Riverdale’s community center. Nothing really stood out to Betty, but she still saved the papers, just in case they’d actually become relevant.

The articles regarding Jason were all cut and dry about the town grieving the loss of Jason Blossom, the woe of the Blossom family, and updates on the investigation, which were basically reminders that the investigation was bearing little result, but the police remained “quite hopeful” to produce something viable very soon. It put a sick feeling in Betty’s stomach that had nothing to do with morning sickness.

She switched gears at the end of three hours, storing her paper clippings in a folder and stuffing it and the newspapers in the back of her closet, tucked in that little space between the wall and the shelf on the bottom. She knew that she couldn’t risk hiding it anywhere else. Though she always did her own chores, she knew her mother sometimes did her own clean-sweeps, and would have surely discovered the folder if it’d been under the bed or in Betty’s sock drawer.

The articles out of sight and out of mind (well, marginally), Betty wobbled over whether to text Cheryl, or to start her studying. In the end, she decided that schoolwork came first, and was soon invested within thirty minutes of deep study on algorithms for her mathematics class. It lasted only thirty minutes because that was when Cheryl called Betty.

“Heard you went out town for the weekend,” Cheryl said first thing after Betty answered the phone with “hello”. She sounded a little hesitant, like she hadn’t really wanted to call Betty but had little choice.

Betty responded congenially. “Sorta. My sister and I just got back yesterday afternoon from Greendale.”

“Greendale? What’s in Greendale that you can’t get here, in Riverdale?”

“Just some new sights to see.” Betty had already practiced what she was going to tell her friends what she’d done in Greendale. Looking at shops, seeing new things, and drinking lots of cafe chocolate — it was definitely a “very boring Betty thing to do”, as Veronica would most definitely comment.

Cheryl sounded a bit amused, and Betty could hear Cheryl’s wry smile across the connection. “I actually called to ask you if you’re still accepting my invitation to speak at Jason’s funeral. My family’s already started preparing eulogies, and I think you should be a part of the get-together.”

Betty bit her lower lip, nervous at the idea of interacting with Jason’s family, but still said, “Yes. I’d be happy to say something for the funeral.” It’d help her say “goodbye” to Jason, too — or at least put the most of the misery of his death to rest. “I don’t really know what to say, though.”

“Neither do I,” Cheryl sympathized. “But Josie suggested that we maybe work together on our eulogies, so that way, we’re in sync up on the stage.”

Betty had to admit, that sounded like a pretty good idea. “Sure. Did you want to meet up tomorrow after school?”

“I was thinking that we could start today.”

“Today?”

That put a damper on Betty’s study plans. But she couldn’t possibly turn Cheryl away — not when it must have taken some courage for Cheryl to call Betty in the first place.

“Sure,” Betty said, a little hesitant. “We can do today.” She glanced about her room, pinpointing the jeans and t-shirt she could wear and already matching them with her choice of shoes. “What time?”

“How about a half-hour?” Cheryl offered. “I can send our chauffeur to pick you up. And then later, she can bring you back home.”

Betty was already heading for the shower. “Sure! I’ll be ready!”

It took Betty less than ten minutes to shower and get dressed, and she was back in her room, brushing her hair and looking in the mirror above her powder blue vanity. She was busy pulling her long, sunshine blonde hair up into a ponytail when Betty’s mother entered the room, holding a basket of clean laundry.

“I thought you planned to relax today,” she opined as she watched her daughter prepare. She walked to the bed and set down the basket on top of the covers. “Are you going to meet up with Veronica?” It was a reasonable guess — usually that was what Betty would usually do on a lazy Sunday.

Betty shook her head, bouncing her ponytail. “I’m going to Cheryl Blossom’s house to work on our eulogies for Jason’s funeral.”

Alice was a little surprised. “It’s already being planned?”

“Yep.” Betty tugged on her ponytail once to make sure it was tight enough. “And Cheryl’s asked me to give a eulogy.”

Alice worried. “Are you sure? You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” She worried that it might be a little too much for Betty — even more worried now that Alice knew Betty was pregnant. 

“Jason would want me to at least say something,” Betty said in response. “And it’d mean a lot to Cheryl and Mr. Blossom if they had someone besides family up there speaking.” She finished her fussing and looked in the mirror. She’d chosen a pair of jeans and a blue shirt to wear, both loose on her frame and a little baggy.

Alice nodded, understanding what her daughter was saying, but her maternal concern was still ever present. “It won’t be too much stress for you?”

“I’ll take it easy,” Betty promised, going to her mother and hugging her tightly.

Alice let go of the basket of laundry and returned the squeeze. “Do you need a ride to Cheryl’s home?”

Betty pulled back and shook her head. “No. Cheryl’s sending her chauffeur to pick me up, and then she’ll also drive me back when Cheryl and I are done.”

It sounded well planned to Alice’s ears, and she released Betty, turning back to her basket of laundry. “Sounds like you have everything figured out.” She started to pull folded laundry out of the basket — a couple shirts, some pants, and socks piled on top — and handed them to her daughter.

“Your father and I talked about getting you a doctor’s appointment next week,” Alice said casually, causing Betty to freeze.

It hadn’t been as if Betty hadn’t expected her parents to mention going to the hospital. She’d known that as soon as her parents knew about her pregnancy, that all attempts to avoid a doctors visit would be for naught. But while she was taken aback, she had an answer on her tongue.

“That sounds like a good idea.” She went to her dresser to put away her clothes, aware of her mother’s blue eyes searching on her back. “I can call and schedule an appointment tomorrow?”

“That’d be a very good idea,” Alice answered, smiling softly. And when Betty turned around from her dresser, she could see that there was a great swell of relief in Alice’s eyes. Betty realized that her mother must have been expecting Betty to avoid the conversation, and she gave her mother a small, reassuring smile.

“The family doctor, right?”

“That’s right. Dr. Thompson,” Alice clarified. “Her number’s on the fridge in the top left corner above the ice machine.”

“Got it.” She watched her mother take the basket of laundry and leave, feeling somewhat lighter than she had felt yesterday. She returned to what she’d been doing before her mother had interrupted her, smiling pleasantly as she moved around her room.

 

Josie greeted Betty at the Blossom mansion’s front door when Betty finally arrived at the house. She took Betty’s coat and hung it in one of the closets around the corner from the front door.

“Glad you could come over,” she said honestly as she shut the closet door. “Cher’s been having a near tizzy over writing her eulogy, and her old man’s been no help.”

Betty arched a brow, having trouble imagining Cheryl Blossom having something as uncouth as a “tizzy”. “That doesn’t sound like Cheryl,” she opined.

Josie rolled her eyes. “That’s because she waits to have her freak-outs in private. Follow me.” She nodded her head towards the long hall, and started walking, Betty following obediently.

“Cher’s in the lounge. She’s been working on that eulogy for over two hours now, and now even Sugar could snap that girl out of her focus,” Josie explained, with special mention of Cheryl’s mixed breed Pomeranian rescue. As the two teenagers approached the lounge, the aforementioned pup came scampering out the doorway like a big, fluffy orange pom-pom, heading straight for Josie. The young lady crouched down, arms open, welcoming Sugar.

Betty remembered Jason telling her stories about the dog — that she’d been a sixteenth birthday gift from Cheryl and Jason’s father. Betty also remembered Jason showing her pictures he’d snapped with his phone of a delighted Cheryl in the local animal shelter, immediately find her precious pup, and even a video of Cheryl exclaiming glee once her eyes came upon the future Sugar Blossom.

“I’ve never seen her so happy,” Jason had confided in Betty. And looking at how the peppy pup practically gamboled her way into Josie’s arms, Betty could tell that Sugar made more than just Cheryl happy.

“Hey there, Shug!” Josie cooed, putting kisses on the top of Sugar’s head. “Where’s your mommy? Still inside?”

The pup barked in response, gifting Josie with many wet puppy kisses, before finally taking notice of Betty’s presence, standing behind Josie. She immediately began to yip, excited to meet another person who would, no doubt, give Sugar many pets, ear scratches, and belly rubs.

Betty smiled at the dog over Josie’s shoulder, giving a little finger waggle for a greeting. It only served to make Sugar even more excited.

“Cool it, kiddo!” Josie laughed, standing back up and picking up Sugar in the process. The dog hadn’t looked too heavy, but as Betty heard Josie grunt, she supposed that all that fur was hiding some girth.

“Heavy?” Betty asked, amused.

Josie sighed. “I think Cher’s been sharing creampuffs again.” She started for the lounge’s entrance. “She’s not really good at saying ‘no’ to this little fur ball. She spoils ‘em like crazy.”

Betty glanced at the jewel-studded collar around Sugar’s neck, and couldn’t help but agree with Josie.

The lounge was no less opulent than the mansion’s front entrance, with velvet-lined loveseats and cushions, a long, polished coffee table at the center of the room, a fireplace against one of the walls, rich carpeting on the floor, and over a dozen bookshelves up against the farthest right wall. 

There were gilded framed pictures on the walls, all displaying various members of the Blossom family, as well as photos of Jason and Cheryl and a beautiful brown-haired woman who had Cheryl’s smile and Jason’s nose. Betty supposed this was Jason and Cheryl’s mother. She appeared only in photos of Jason and Cheryl, and one photo of her and Mr. Blossom, obviously taken on their wedding day.

Looking at the photo of the delighted Penelope Blossom all dressed in white and her arms thrown about her husband’s shoulders, Betty remembered Jason telling her stories about the brown-haired Blossom bride.

Penelope Blossom had been born and raised in the city of Chicago, as the eldest of three kids. She had two younger twin brothers, and when she wasn’t working odd jobs, she was helping her work-busy parents raise Penelope’s brothers. Because money was tight, Penelope had to earn a scholarship in order to attend college, and because her parents still needed her at home, she’d taken the scholarship of the closest college outside of Chicago.

It’d been where she’d met Clifford Blossom, then only the heir to his father’s burgeoning software company, Blossom Incorporated. Cliff had been traveling with his father, who had been making speeches to business students looking to find later work in up and coming companies. Penelope had been taking one of those very classes, and it’d only taken Cliff one look at the brown haired girl in the front row, studiously taking notes, and Cliff was instantly smitten.

The couple had dated two years before deciding to get married, and then five years before deciding to start a family of their own. Within a year and a half of making that decision, Cliff and Penelope were blessed with the arrival of twin babies, Jason and Cheryl. For several years, Penelope and Clifford raised their children in Chicago, spoiling them and providing them whatever they so wished. However, as they became tots, Cliff and Penelope worried the effect high society had upon the children.

So when Jason and Cheryl were four, they relocated Blossom Incorporated to Riverdale, a nice and quiet little town in Kansas, and enrolled the kids in public school. The effect the town life had upon the Blossoms was ultimately positive, and for a several years, they enjoyed their life in Riverdale. But that had all come to an end when Penelope suffered a fatal brain aneurysm when the twins were ten years old. Cliff and the children were beside themselves with grief, and not long after Penelope’s quiet burial, the family returned to Chicago, where they remained for five years before returning to Riverdale.

The wall had several photos of what looked to be preteen Jason and Cheryl in Chicago, gilded in wealth, and smirking cockily at the camera. They were sometimes surrounded by other kids, all wealthy, who’d obviously had airs of self-absorption and carried themselves with pride. Betty remembered how city life had changed Jason and Cheryl, and when they’d returned to Riverdale, the friends they’d left behind could no longer recognize the twins. They were spoilt beyond all imagination, quote assuming, and carried the privileged air of high society having to hobnob with those of the lesser class. 

Only Josie McCoy had seen through Cheryl’s facade and forced herself to stay by Cheryl’s side, managing to break through several years of inflated ego and volumes of hair that hid Cheryl’s vulnerabilities. 

Meanwhile, Jason wasn’t so lucky, and he’d allowed himself to remain conceited and rude — playing awful pranks, and sizing up fellow classmates. His only soft moments had been when he’d laid his green eyes upon Betty, and for a moment, he was back to ten years old, wishing he’d had the courage to ask Betty to play with him during recess, or invite her over for a playdate. The only issue, then, had been that Jason had Archie Andrews for competition, and just like Jason, Archie had grown up handsome and charming. And the photos on the wall displayed the stages appropriately — Jason as a swaddled baby in Penelope’s arms, to Jason the high schooler in his junior year, smirking at the camera, cool guy pose and all.

Below Jason’s photos were Cheryl’s, and like Jason’s photos, they went in order from babyhood to young adulthood. There Cheryl in a fabulous pose just like Jason, winking coyly at the camera. The Cheryl in the photo wasn’t much different from the one seated on one of the loveseats in the lounge. 

Cheryl was a fashionably dressed, her beautiful red hair up in a bun, her legs pulled up on the couch, and her body practically lounging upon the loveseat, several cushions propping up her back. She had several sheets of paper and some pens on the coffee table, and was twirling a pen between her fingers, focused upon the few words she’d written down on one of the papers.

She looked up when Betty and Josie made their entrance, and Betty was momentarily stunned as Cheryl’s emerald sea green eyes met her own sky blues. They reminded her strongly of Jason’s eyes.

“Oh good,” Cheryl said with a sigh of relief, putting down her pen. “You’re here. I’ve been racking my brain for an hour already, trying to get this stupid thing written.”

Josie shook her head, letting down Sugar when she started to wiggle excitedly. Sugar dashed to Cheryl’s side, hopping up onto the loveseat cushions and plopping down right at Cheryl’s hip.

“This doesn’t have to be done in one night, Cher,” Josie tried to reason.

“Jason’s funeral is next week, Josie,” Cheryl protested, brow furrowing. “It can’t sit and wait for me to make up my mind.”

Betty’s eyes widened. “Wait. The funeral is next week?” That was a little too soon for Betty’s comfort.

Cheryl’s face was stubborn “He’s waited long enough for a proper burial. The sooner the better.” She would not be moved on the matter. But while Cheryl was determined, Betty was nervous, and she could suddenly understand Cheryl’s desperation. 

She made her way around the coffee table to seat herself beside Sugar, bending forward to look at Cheryl’s work. “What have you got so far?” she asked. She knew that the papers were barely filled, but she knew that just because the papers didn’t have the idea down, didn’t mean that Cheryl didn’t have some ideas in her head.

Cheryl tapped one of the papers with a pointed finger. “This much.”

Betty looked at the paper, and then closed her eyes.

“It’s a start…” she tried to say reassuringly.

Cheryl glared at Betty. “It literally says ‘Jason Blossom was my brother’, followed by five dots, Cooper!” The pitch of her voice tipped higher in her ire and Betty winced.

Josie just sighed. “What I tell you?” She folded her arms and shook her head. “A tizzy.”

Cheryl whipped her head around and growled. “Josie!” And then Sugar began to bark in excitement.

Recognizing the start of an argument, Betty sought to ease everyone’s tensions. “Let’s start with the basics, okay?” She took up Cheryl’s pen and began writing down several ideas, managing to successfully take back both Cheryl and Josie’s attention, and even quitting Sugar.

Betty helped Cheryl write her eulogy for over four hours, in which she and Josie and Cheryl took thirty minute breaks between. Cheryl used those breaks to give Betty a tour about the Blossom mansion, Josie and Sugar accompanying, giving Betty long-winded insights into the Blossom family history. While Jason had given Betty bits and pieces of information about his family, Cheryl was set to give Betty an entire course’s worth.

“…and this is our family crest,” Cheryl said, pointing to a beautiful Scottish coat of arms on a large wood plaque on a wall in one of the many halls of the mansion. “Note the beautiful flowers surrounding coat of arms? A symbol of the Blossom family’s character!”

Josie whispered over Betty’s shoulder, “A little too much ‘character’, if you ask me.”

Betty hid a smile by raising her hand to her mouth, covering the little laugh she quickly stifled before Cheryl could notice. But cheryl continued her informative lecture, blissfully unaware.

“…and did you know that the Blossom family actually has a castle in Scotland? It’s true! We even went and took a visit a couple years ago. And Jason did nothing but complain…”

It was refreshing for Betty to learn about the Blossom family — it provided her more insight into Jason, as well as encouraged the appreciation she had for Cheryl. And maybe, perhaps, the envy Betty had over Cheryl’s colorful family history. All Betty had garnered from the Cooper family history was that her great-grandfather had a maple syrup business and almost killed some poor soul over a tapped maple tree on Great-Grandpa Cooper’s property. Not exactly the kind of history a girl would want to present on Family History Day in third grade.

By the end of the four hours, Cheryl had completed a rough draft of her eulogy, open to more detailing as she’d think of them, and she’d given Betty a full lesson on the Blossom family’s history. She wished she’d had been able to take notes on Cheryl’s tour, when she remembered that the baby she was carrying was just as much a Blossom, and would no doubt want to learn about their father’s family.

Betty promised herself that, when she was ready to tell Cheryl about carrying Jason’s baby, she’d ask Cheryl to help Betty write down the entire history of the Blossom family.

At the end of the tour, as Cheryl paused to go use the ladies’ room, Josie and Betty were left alone in the hall with one peppy Sugar Blossom at their feet, leaning against Josie’s legs. Josie absently scratched Sugar’s ear, herself leaning back against one of the walls.

“Thanks for putting up with the tour guide spiel,” Josie said, interrupting Betty’s thoughts.

Betty was confused. “What?”

“Cher gets really passionate about her family’s history,” Josie explained. “I know it can get boring, but thanks for sticking it out through the entire thing. She doesn’t usually get that into it unless it’s with someone she trusts.”

Betty was touched that she’d earned Cheryl’s trust, and smiled softly. “It made Cheryl happy. And it was actually pretty interesting learning about Jason’s family history.”

Josie nodded, sharing Betty’s smile. “You should tell Cher that. It’d make her day.”

It was obvious that Cheryl meant the world to Josie, and that Josie enjoyed sharing that feeling with someone else. Betty wondered if Jason had shared that feeling with Josie — but there was something different about Josie’s affections. And just trying to ponder on what that difference could be made Betty’s cheeks blush and she pushed down the curiosity, deciding that it was rude to be so nosy, even if only in her own head.

“I’ll make sure to do that,” Betty agreed.

“Do what?”

The two girls (and dog) turned toward where Cheryl was re-entering the hall, her high heels clicking on the wood floor. She was still in her good mood, but there was a question in her expression.

Josie shot Betty a conspiratorial look, chocolate brown eyes knowing. “Betty wanted to ask if you’d be able to tell her more about the Blossom family history.” She smiled at Betty’s slight look of alarm. “You only told her about the Scottish Blossoms. What about when Great Grandpa Blossom immigrated to the U.S.?”

Cheryl swung her head towards Betty, face bright and beautiful with delight. “I could give you another tour sometime, Betty.”

Betty squashed her slight dismay and nodded, forcing her lips to curve in a beaming smile. “That sounds great, Cheryl.”

“Fabulous!” Cheryl exclaimed, and turned on a heel and started down the hall, bidding her company to follow. “I can tell you about the Blossom family’s first business venture in the fish market! It was a mess, but Great Grandpa Blossom really wanted eels to be the next big thing…”

Josie nudged Betty with an elbow, smiling with cat-like mischief. “You’re a real trooper, Cooper.”

“Yay me,” said Betty, deadpan. She couldn’t help but shoot Josie with a mean look, which only served to amuse Josie.

When they were back in the lounge, seated and finishing the final touches on Cheryl’s draft, Josie made a suggestion of inviting Betty to her band’s rehearsal. And while Betty was still a little annoyed that Josie had tricked Betty into another lesson on Blossom Family History 101, the offer of seeing The Pussycats play was enough to earn Josie all of Betty’s good feelings.

“Really?” she asked, unable to keep the excitement out of her voice.

Josie nodded. “Cher’s usually the one who helps us fine tune our sets, but we could always use another second opinion.”

“You should definitely come,” Cheryl encouraged. “They’re practicing tonight at Josie’s house, and after rehearsal, we all go to Pop’s for sundaes to celebrate.”

Betty could see little reason to say ‘no’.

 

The Pussycats were Riverdale’s number one, self-made rock band which had started in Josie McCoy’s garage one day when she was fourteen and had her friends over for a slumber party. It’d been her, Valerie Brown, and Melody Valentine, getting their hands on Josie’s mother’s guitar, and banging on pots and pans. They’d sounded absolutely ridiculous, but something in the way they’d played had felt so right to the girls, and they’d decided to continue giving it another go.

The Pussycats had a rough two years of starting up their band, but by their third year, they’d established a sound that had even the neighbors next door asking for more. Which lead the girls to play at community events, school parties and assemblies, and even some club gigs outside Riverdale (with Josie’s mother chaperoning, of course). 

Of course, the girls had encountered some trouble with getting their band the recognition it deserved. Being an all girl rock band made getting The Pussycats publicity a trial, but luckily they had Cheryl Blossom as a friend, and she’d done her best using her father’s influence in town to spread The Pussycats’ name, and by the time the band was four years old, the girls had out of city offers and a huge fan following.

And Betty Cooper was definitely one of those fans.

Sitting next to Cheryl on a tool bench they’d pulled away from Josie’s father’s work area, Betty was bobbing her head and tapping her feet to the addictive beat of one of The Pussycat’s new songs, as the band jammed out a couple feet away. She wished she could pull out her phone and film the set, but out of respect for The Pussycats, she kept her phone in her sweater pocket.

_And you, baby, you—you, oh baby!_  
_You got me feeling so super duper crazy!_  
_And you baby, you—you, oh baby!_  
_You got me thinking that, hey, maybe—maybe_  
_We can fall apart right into each other’s arms!_

Josie was the lead vocalist, playing her guitar, her cat-ears headband atop her head, helping her keep the mood. Valerie Brown was on her keyboard, bouncy, ringlet brown hair bouncing on her shoulders as she kept time with each beat of Melody Valentine, bright blonde dyed hair long and flowing down her back, as she pounded at her drums. Just like Josie, they, too, were wearing their cat headbands, with Valerie even wearing her faux leopard print boots to match the theme.

Each member of The Pussycats was beautiful, strong, and remarkably talented. It was one of the reasons that had caused Betty to become surprised when she learned that the band had such a hard startup. But Betty also knew one of the reasons was because, while being an all girl band was difficult, being an all Black AND all girl band was even more difficult.

_Don’t let society tell you that we shouldn’t be in love_  
_I’ve already fallen too fast, too far, to ever get back up!_  
_And looking at you, watching me from across the room_  
_I know you feel the same_  
_So get in my car, let’s run away, to the future where everyday_  
_I’m singing to you, and it goes like—_

Betty had heard The Pussycats a dozen times before at Riverdale’s town events, but she’d never gotten up-close. Close enough to see the sweat on Josie’s brow as she made her guitar sing, or the way Valerie bit her lip when a certain sound moved her. It reminded Betty of when Archie would play his guitar for her and their friends. Both Archie and The Pussycats played with a pure love for music, for the lyrics, and for the beat, but where Archie tended to lean towards alternative and acoustics, The Pussycats were rock with an occasional essence of pop.

The Pussycats’ song soon came to an end, with a short instrumental conclusion, and then Cheryl and Betty were on their feet, cheering and clapping with a great deal of enthusiasm. Cheryl even added in some wolf whistles, and Betty followed along, filling the garage with enough noise to escape to outside.

“That was fabulous!” Cheryl exclaimed. “And you’re going to debut it at the Riverdale Harvest Festival?”

“That’s the plan,” Valerie answered, stepping back from her keyboard. Betty noted how Valerie’s fingers still twitched from the rhythm. “We’re going to play with the tune a bit, though, because SOMEONE isn’t exactly satisfied with it.” She looked pointedly at Josie.

Josie wrinkled her nose. “I want everything to be perfect for the song’s debut.”

Valeria rolled her eyes. 

While Valerie and Josie were the best of friends (maybe not as close as Cheryl and Josie), they often clashed over creative decisions. Where Josie was always practicing things over and over, wanting things go absolutely perfect without any hitches, Valerie preferred to go with the flow of things, and calmly ride the bumps along the way. More often than not, they balanced one another out, with Josie keeping the schedule and Valerie improvising when things didn’t always go as planned. But sometimes they got their wires crossed, and it usually lead to ‘catfights’, no pun intended.

And it looked like Valerie was preparing for another little tiff. “We’ve fussed with the tune over ten times, already, Jose,” she argued.

Josie folded her arms, letting her guitar hang by the strap around her neck. “And we’ll fuss with it a dozen times more, if that’s what it takes!”

Thankfully, Melody interrupted the argument with a wave of her drumsticks before banging down on her drums, disrupting the tension. Cheryl and Betty had seen the drum beat coming and had steeled themselves, while Josie and Valerie had jumped, startled. 

“Melody!” they admonished, slightly frazzled.

Melody frowned, and when she spoke, her sweet voice took on a very stern edge. “No catfighting allowed in the Jam Zone, guys!” She hopped up out of her seat at the drums, coming around the instruments to walk right over to her two friends.

While Melody played peacemaker, Betty leaned towards Cheryl and whispered, “‘Jam Zone’?”

Cheryl smirked. “No fighting allowed at rehearsals. They either take it outside, or bury the hatchet.” She watched Melody turn both stubborn Valerie and headstrong Josie into ashamed little kitty cats. “Melody’s all sugar and everything nice, but she HATES when Valerie and Jose get snippy.”

Watching Melody make Josie and Valerie make up, Betty couldn’t help but imagine the good Melody could do for Veronica and Cheryl. If Melody could get two Pussycats to put away their claws, then maybe she’d have better luck than Betty at getting Veronica Lodge and Cheryl Blossom to stop their ritual squabbling. It’d certainly save Betty from the inevitable headaches.

“We’re sorry,” Josie and Valerie chorused to Melody in unison, sounding not all that sincere. A hard glare from Melody had them rethinking their sincerity, and they cringed.

“I’m sorry, Mel.”

“Really sorry, Mel. Honest.”

Melody kept her glare a couple seconds longer before closing her eyes and sighing, dropping her arms at her sides. After the five-hundred time since the girls became friends at the age of thirteen, with Melody taking role of peacemaker, it was understandable how tired she was of the in-fighting.

Seeing Melody’s exhaustion, Betty asked if rehearsal was finished.

Josie made another face. “It’s only seven o’clock, Cooper.”

Cheryl took Betty’s side. “We haven’t even had dinner yet, Jose.” As if to make a point, her stomach grumbled, loudly, much to Cheryl’s embarrassment and red cheeks.

Valerie hid a smirk. “They don’t feed you enough food in that castle of yours?”

“She’s been working on her eulogy since the afternoon, Val,” Josie explained for Cheryl. 

Val grimaced. “And no lunch? That’s just not okay.”

Melody piped in with, “I could go for some dinner right now, actually.”

Josie sighed. “Is that really what everyone wants to do?” She received a resounding chorus of ‘yes’, and Josie conceded, agreeing that she could probably do with a burger and some fries herself.

 

Pop’s Chocklit Shop was the number one teen hang out in Riverdale, aside from the mall. It’d first been established in the early nineties by one Mr. Pop Tate, who’d seen the fading diner scene of the yesteryears and decided to revitalize the trend in his own image. It had cozy, cushioned booths, a burger bar and row of barstools, with checkered flooring, bright neon light signs, and of course, the ambience of juke boxes and turn-styles. People young and old flocked to Pop’s for his legendary burgers and shakes, and of the entire population in Riverdale, it was agreed that only Pop’s could properly make an authentic malt.

The Chocklit Shop’s peak times were afternoon and night, when the lunch and dinner crowds flowed through the doors for Pop’s delicious food, so when Josie, Cheryl, Valerie, Melody, and Betty drove up to the restaurant and saw the row of cars, they knew they were in for a bit of a wait to get a table. And when they’d been given the second ticket for the next available table, the girls knew they were in for a bit of a longer wait. The poor waitress who’d given them the ticket said it would be, at the least, ten minutes, but looking at the staff scattered about the restaurant, they could tell that they’d be waiting longer than ten minutes.

“This place is a madhouse,” Valerie commented, looking over at the tables. “How many waiters and waitresses are in here?” She frowned, wrinkling her nose at the sight of the wait staff scrambling to serve tables and get back to Pop’s counter as quickly as possible before taking a ready order out to a different table. Valerie could see sweat forming on several of the staff’s brows, and felt a note of pity for the frazzled employees.

“Looks like not enough,” Melody answered, looking sadly at one waitress be harangued by a grouchy customer. He looked to be another of the dozens of tourists who were visiting Riverdale for the Harvest Festival (as most city slickers would do during the autumn). While Riverdale wasn’t the premiere small town in Kansas, they were “quaint” enough to be targeted by several overworked city vacationers looking for an “authentic” small town experience.

Even Jughead disliked the tourists, and Jughead didn’t even dislike the Cabot twins — two of the most self-absorbed students at Riverdale High School (and even Jason, before his change of heart, had hated the Cabot twins). Obviously, Jughead was a good judge of character, and most people disliked the Cabot twins.

“I wish there was something we could do to help the guy,” Josie opined, wincing when yet another pair of waiters almost collided with one another. “Maybe the place’ll calm down once autumn is over.”

“Hopefully,” Betty agreed. Personally, she’d just rather give the tourists the boot.

The girls only had to wait ten minutes more before a table finally opened up and the same waitress from earlier quickly seated them (Betty sat next to Cheryl and Josie, while Melody and Valerie were adjacent across the table of the little booth) before heading dashing off to behind the long counter surrounding the cook area. She grabbed a tray and begin putting together some water glasses. Betty made a mental reminder to herself to leave the girl a big tip at the end of the night.

When the waitress returned, she served the water, took the drink orders (all shakes, of course) and food orders (all burgers), all while smiling sweetly the entire time and speaking so positively. She collected the menus on the table and hurried off to the counter area to pass on the order to the cook staff. 

With the waitress gone, the table fell into conversation, the girls chatting about school and hobbies and music, and Melody and Valerie took a cue from Josie to try and get Betty talking.

“Are you going to play volleyball again in the spring, Betty?” Melody asked, the idea of possibly joining the team on her mind.

As one of Riverdale High School best volleyball players, Betty had always been participating in each volleyball season since freshman year. She’d made co-captain in junior year, and just before summer started, the captain of the team had asked Betty if she’d be interested in taking the mantle of captain for herself in senior year. While Betty had been elated at the honor, she’d asked for some time to consider the offer, unsure if she’d have time for volleyball with everything she planned to do in her senior year.

Betty started to feel excited about the thought of the upcoming season, but the reminder of her pregnancy made her realize that she probably wouldn’t be playing in the spring.

“I don’t think so,” she answered Melody. “Way too much stuff to get done this year before we all graduate.” She gave herself a mental pat on the back for her believable answer.

“Oh,” Melody was disappointed. “That’s too bad. You always were the best spiker.”

Valerie agreed. “You had good aim, too. I remember when you used to spike the ball right at Andrews’ head!”

Josie chuckled. “You did that in softball, too, if I remember right.”

Cheryl turned her head to Betty, eyes mischievous and amused. “That boy could never get a break, could he?”

Reminders of Archie’s less than charming moments in the history of their relationship made something sour in Betty’s stomach, and she frowned. “He hardly deserved one, the way he kept flirting with all those girls.” She leaned back against the booth’s cushioning and folded her arms against her chest. It took almost all her willpower to not start pouting.

“Did you know that he once came to cheer me on, and then ended up flirting with the opposing team’s captain?” It made her blood boil just a bit remembering that awful day. And it’d been during the playoffs, too, which had only served to anger Betty even more. If she recalled right, she’d given Archie the silent treatment for an entire week following the tournament, and only when he’d honestly apologized for his mistakes did Betty forgive her red-haired friend.

Melody made a face. “Ick! That’s all I’ve got to say about THAT!”

Betty agreed, but wanted to change the subject to something that wouldn’t make her want to punch Archie the next time she saw him (which would be tomorrow, at school).

“Subject change. What are you guys planning to wear at the Harvest Festival?”

Chatter once again filled the table, and within just one minute, the girls were absorbed in discussing various costuming options for The Pussycats to wear onstage. Cheryl even took a pen from her purse and began sketching out some ideas on the white napkins. Betty bent her head over Cheryl’s work, following the inky black lines Cheryl made upon the napkin.

So absorbed in their work, the girls didn’t notice two people watching them from several booths over. Well — it was really just one person, because Jughead was going to have nothing to do with even remotely spying on Betty.

“You’re doing it again,” Jughead warned Archie, focused on his deluxe cheeseburger and fritters supreme (a Pops specialty he had prepared just for Jughead).

Archie turned back to face the front of him, arching a brow at Jughead. Archie had ordered his own favorite of cheeseburger and fries (simple things, Archie liked those best) but he’d only taken three bites out of it when he heard Betty’s voice several tables down from his and Jughead’s.

Archie remembered that he’d tried to ask Veronica out earlier, this morning, and Veronica had replied that she wanted to spend time with Betty, which Archie encouraged. But he hadn’t heard back from Veronica since, and seeing Betty out with Cheryl and The Pussycats told Archie that Betty had turned down Veronica’s invitation. Which really didn’t seem plausible to Archie — but then he remembered that last night, Veronica had said that Betty came back into town and didn’t alert Veronica, which was so unlike Betty.

“Doing what?” Archie asked Jughead, as if he didn’t already know what Jughead meant. Jughead could always see through Archie’s facades — it happened when two boys were friends since they were seven years old and Jughead had first moved into town, the son of a wealthy water bottling mogul who lost it all when the company went under. Archie had been one of the only friends that had stuck around for Jughead, and had even once gotten into a couple schoolyard scraps with any bullies trying to pick on Jughead for his economic status.

Though Archie certainly had his issues with women, it could not be denied that Archie was a good friend and excellent comrade to one Jughead Jones. Which was why Jughead refused to sugarcoat ANYTHING for Archie (a true friend was blunt and said what they meant).

Jughead made a face at Archie, and pushed the food in his mouth to one cheek so he could talk. “Yer watchin’ ‘etty ag’in.”

Archie frowned. “I’m just concerned about her, Jug.”

Jughead rolled his eyes, and then chewed and swallowed his food. “I can understand ‘concerned’, Arch. But you’re spying on her the way you used to spy on her and Adam in sophomore year.”

“She used to spy on me, too, Jug,” Archie tried to deflect.

Jughead would have none of that. “When you and her were still dating,” he reminded Archie. And Archie couldn’t debate that fact, because at the time, it’d been hormonal teenagers participating in rounds of casual dating, with Archie and Betty and then Betty and another boy, with Archie and Veronica, and then even Reggie and Veronica followed by Veronica and another boy. 

But the inclusion of Adam Chisholm had thrown Archie for a loop (Adam had been entirely focused upon Betty) and that one month in sophomore year when Betty had dated Adam and only Adam had honestly scared Archie. Jughead had been quite blunt with Archie at that time, too. 

“I don’t blame Betty,” Jughead had said. “You have a habit of treating her real crummy, Arch. Sometimes I’m ashamed to call you my pal!” 

It’d hurt for Archie to hear the truth from Jughead, but he’d needed it.

In the end, things worked out, Archie proved to Betty that he honestly cared about her, Betty returned to dating Archie, and Adam ended up moving to Kentucky when his dad got a promotion at his job. Betty didn’t see Adam again, and Betty was once more on Archie’s arm with offers of brownies and sweet kisses tasting like vanilla and sugar.

All had been right in Archie’s world.

In the present, Jughead put down his burger on its plate, sizing Archie up with a scrutinizing look. “I know you and Betty haven’t gotten to spend much time together lately, but you really need to give her some space, Arch.”

Archie couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “More space than there already is?”

“It’s the truth, buddy,” Jughead tried to reason. “Betty’ll see you when she’s good and ready. She recently went through something pretty traumatic, so you have to give her more time.” And for an afterthought, he added, “And not PUSH her.”

Archie frowned. “I’m just worried about her, Jug.”

Jughead sighed. “I know, Arch. I am, too.” He put up his hands in emphasis. “Heck, all our friends are looking over their shoulders to make sure Betty even crosses the street safely!” He put down his hands. “But remember what I said the other day? ‘Just be her friend’?”

Archie let out a defeated sigh. “Yeah, I remember.” It was just difficult to push back his feelings for Betty after all these years. And that kiss she’d given him Friday afternoon, chaste and on the cheek, had reminded Archie that he still a strong attraction to Betty.

“Let’s just continue encouraging her to feel better, get better, and be happy,” Jughead summarized. “I’m not saying we have to let everything slide. But we really need to be considering what’s best for Betty instead of what WE believe is best.” Jughead made a lot of sense.

“Right,” Archie agreed.

“Follow Veronica’s example,” Jughead suggested. “Maybe you two can plan something nice for Betty? Make her favorite lunch for her one day, or see about taking her to another drive-in movie? Better yet — get Cheryl involved.” He nodded his head towards Betty’s table. “It looks like the two of them are spending a lot of time together.”

Archie arched a brow. “Since when do you advocate for Cheryl Blossom?”

Jughead wrinkled his nose. “She might not be my favorite person, Arch, but she was close to Jason, too, and I think Betty needs Cheryl to help feel better. You saw how buddy they were at the drive-in? That’s the happiest I’ve seen Betty in a long while.”

Archie was already formulating plans for another drive-in excursion. Also working into the equation was Archie’s promise to himself from the previous night, when he’d vowed he’d find out what was happening with Betty. He could also get Veronica involved, and while Archie knew that Cheryl and Veronica didn’t exactly get along, that Veronica would do anything to help Betty.

“Okay,” he decided. “Maybe we can all go to the drive-in again maybe Friday night? We’ll take my dad’s truck so we can all fit in the back.” He then remembered something. “I just have to make sure Pop doesn’t need it that night.”

Jughead took another bite of his burger. “Why’d ‘e need ‘eet.”

“He’s got a new project with some bigshot associate of Blossom Incorporated,” Archie explained, wrinkling his nose when he saw a little food in Jughead’s mouth. “Dude, just chew and swallow before speaking.”

Jughead did so. “Sorry.” He set his burger down, picked up his napkin, and dabbed at his mouth with it. “So I guess that’s a new company moving into Riverdale?”

“Sorta.” Archie tried to remember what he’d talk about with his father. “Pop said that it’s more like an addition to Blossom Incorporated. It’ll be kinda like a research lab, or something.”

Jughead wrinkled his nose, frowning. “And this is all happening right now?”

Archie shrugged his shoulders. “I guess.”

“What’s the company’s name?”

“I think…” Archie struggled to remember. “Something Russian, I think…Hed…Hedera. That’s it.”

It sounded odd to Jughead. “That definitely sounds Russian.” His brow furrowed. While Jughead didn’t come across as the most focused individual, he was actually quite intelligent, deductive, and logical. “And that’s happening with Jason’s funeral being next week?”

Archie’s eyes widened. “Jason’s funeral is next week?”

Jughead nodded absently, still thinking, before realizing what he’d said. “Oh. Yeah. The announcement is going to be in tomorrow’s paper.” He finally set down his napkin. “Reggie told me.”

Reggie Mantle’s father, Ricky Mantle, was the chief editor of Riverdale’s newspaper, The Riverdale Paper. Usually, Reggie snuck peeks at the next day’s editions of the paper and relayed new information to his friend — news like upcoming concerts and, of course, bits and pieces of news worthy to be gossip. It was how Archie and his friends usually knew what was happening in Riverdale before their classmates.

Archie’s face fell. “Poor Betty.”

Jughead’s agreed, then went back to eating his food. And Archie, feeling a hunger pang in his stomach, decided he better finish his own burger before it got cold. He tried to not look back at Betty’s table when he and Jughead had finished their meals and paid the bill (Archie paid, of course), and he felt proud of himself for having not intruded on Betty’s space.

Later that night, lying in bed with Vegas curled up against his side, he texted Reggie.

_archie: hey regg, you up?_

_regg: this better not be some booty call, andrews._

_archie: ha ha, you wish._

_regg: obviously i’m up. what’d you need?_

_archie: jug said you told him about jason’s funeral._

_regg: oh yeah. it’s next sunday.  
regg: are you going to go?_

_archie: of course! betty’s probably gonna go._

_regg: yeah, she’s one of the speakers for the eulogy._

That made Archie pause in his reply.

_archie: she’s speaking for the eulogy?_

_regg: what i just said._  
_regg: she’s listed along with a couple of jason’s friends._  
_regg: did she tell you anything about that?_

_archie: no. i didn’t even know about the funeral until now!_

_regg: okay. well._  
_regg: maybe she just wants to be private about it?_  
_regg: i don’t know, arch._

Archie could tell that Reggie was tired, and it WAS ten o’clock on a Sunday night.

_archie: think we should tell ronnie?_

_regg: no. let betty tell ronnie herself.  
_regg: did jug talk to you bout giving betty space?__

Indignation flooded Archie’s bloodstream.

_archie: you were in on that???!!!!!!!_

_regg: whoa. cool it with the !!!!!!._  
_regg: jug just said that he was gonna talk to you._  
_regg: also said he needed to talk to ronnie._

Archie’s face scrunched in confusion at his phone’s bright screen.

_archie: why would he talk to ronnie?_

_regg: i don’t know arch_  
_regg: ask jug. he’s prob just worried bout you two._  
_regg: everyone’s noticed you two trying to get betty back to ‘normal’._

_archie: what’s with the quotations?_

_regg: you two tried to get betty to go out with you last week.  
regg: didn’t work._

_archie: she said no._

_regg: of course she said no._  
_regg: her boyfriend just got killed in front of her!_  
_regg: and you two thought she needed a date?_

_archie: okay. i admit. that does sound crummy._

_regg: no kidding. and i know crummy._  
_regg: look. we can talk at school._  
_regg: this is too much for a late night txt._

_archie: got it. sorry, regg._

_regg: you’re a good guy, andrews._  
_regg: and ronnie’s a great girl._  
_regg: to this day i still don’t know why she’s with you and not me._

_archie: good looks aren’t everything regg._

_regg: spoken like a true pleb.  
regg: night arch._

Archie stared at his phone’s screen for another full minute before turning off the device and sett it on his nightstand next to the bed. He stared at the ceiling for a while before deciding it was pointless to ruminate much longer tonight on something he couldn’t exactly control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope it was worth the wait, and I promise that I'll try to get out the next chapter sooner, if school and work and life permits it. Thank you so much for reading!


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